


ignition sequence start

by elizetcetera



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Bonding Through Shared Trauma, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mentions of sex work, Polyamory, Self-Esteem Issues, background kun/lucas, involves hover-cars???, somewhat sci-fi, take off AU, the dystopian future of kpop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2020-02-29 03:56:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 64,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18770704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizetcetera/pseuds/elizetcetera
Summary: In which Sicheng is a drone pilot, Hendery is a rich kid, and Ten just needs a ride.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Really hoping nobody else has done this yet?? I watched Take Off this morning, and I immediately dropped everything I was doing to write an outline for this.

The red light district of Hong-Kong was about as reputable as one would expect.

The streets were dark and dirty, walls covered in graffiti, gang signs and profanity scrawled across old, decrepit brick in colorful lettering. Every person that Sicheng passed was hurrying to their own destination, not looking around, not stopping, furtive and efficient in accomplishing their own secret goals. Nobody stayed here for longer than they absolutely had to; there was a reason that Sicheng didn’t frequent this area.

He knew this was a bad idea, even before he saw the stranger.

The ad was short and to the point, an unnamed individual in need of a ride. Qualified drone pilot required, given the inherent difficulty of the journey and, more importantly, the papers needed to be handed over at the city border. 

Sicheng shouldn’t have even considered it.

He wasn’t a taxi service. He was a real pilot, with real qualifications who should be doing real fucking jobs. Unfortunately, real fucking jobs didn’t always pay the bills.

The stranger was leaning against a sleek black hover-car that looked like it cost more than Sicheng’s life was worth. His yellowish hair glinted red in the neon lights outside the club, and the smoke from his cigarette billowed around his face, partially obscuring his features.

And no, Sicheng thought, nothing about that face was a good idea.

Sicheng walked up to the stranger, stopping several feet away.

“That yours?” Sicheng gestured at the vehicle.

The stranger slowly looked up from his cigarette, a sharp, predatory smile sliding across his features as he saw Sicheng. “It could be.”

The words were lightly accented in a lilting way that Sicheng couldn’t place; a foreigner, then, and not a particularly rich one, considering his clothing, a tacky leopard print vest and floaty red one-piece. He looked like he belonged in the strip club down the road, where pretty people like him catered to Hong-Kong’s more discerning clientele.

This stranger was certainly not native to Hong-Kong, but then neither was Sicheng.

Narrowing his eyes, Sicheng took a few steps closer to examine the car. It was a thing of beauty, a living, breathing creature that could eat Sicheng alive. He could almost imagine the purr of the engine, the give of the throttle, smooth and sensual in its simple luxury.

What Sicheng wouldn’t give to get behind the wheel of a drone like that.

“I don’t want any funny business,” Sicheng said. The hover-car most certainly didn’t belong to the stranger. Only the ultra-wealthy of Hong-Kong could afford a drone like that, particularly since so few people could drive them. “I only agreed to do this if everything’s above board.”

The stranger cocked his head, taking another drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke in Sicheng’s face. “Now, that’s interesting.”

“What?” Sicheng spat, annoyed.

A woman sauntered by in six-inch heels and a skirt that barely covered the essentials, clearly soliciting for the night--not an unusual sight for this part of the city. Sicheng was careful not to make eye contact; a woman like that could get him into real trouble. Raising his eyebrows, the stranger smiled flirtatiously, watching Sicheng’s face closely. “A drone pilot. Concerned about legality. Unusual.”

“Is that going to be a problem?” Sicheng demanded.

The stranger chewed on his lip, grinning in that unsettling way and looking Sicheng up and down consideringly. “No. This is a strictly business arrangement, yes? You get me where I need to go, quickly, and you get the money that was promised.”

Sicheng didn’t like the way the stranger was looking at him, but he did like the sound of the ten thousand dollars. “I’m going to need half of it up front.”

The stranger laughed. “Oh? Do I look like I have that kind of cash on me? In this part of town?”

“I won’t do it unless I know you have the money. I’m not an idiot.”

The stranger finally pushed off the car, stalking over to Sicheng and leaning in closer than Sicheng was frankly comfortable with. He stood his ground; he knew this game, had played it before. The stranger reached a hand up to Sicheng’s face, stopping just short of touching his jaw. He smiled devilishly as Sicheng glared at him coldly. “No. I don’t think you are.”

The stranger paused, thinking. “I will get you the money, if you agree to leave tonight.”

Sicheng scoffed. “Tonight? I need to make arrangements.”

“I can have five thousand dollars in your hands in four hours. Another five thousand when we reach our destination. But it has to be tonight.”

This was such a bad idea, Sicheng thought, for the hundredth time of the evening. He knew nothing about this man. Meeting in a place like this, he was surely involved in some sort of illicit activity. Especially with the dangerous trip that he had planned. Sicheng probably shouldn’t take the risk.

But that money was tempting. He could buy his own drone, for that amount. Not a good one, granted, but one that would run just fine, if he took care of it. He could get out of this fucking city, for once and for all.

“Fine,” Sicheng said finally, having trouble shaking the feeling that he was making a deal with the devil. “But you’d better have the money. The name’s Winwin. What should I call you?”

The stranger’s smile could cut glass, twisted and sharp, as he put his hand out to shake. Sicheng took it. “You can call me Ten. It will be a pleasure doing business with you.”


	2. take off

 

Ten was late.

Hendery sighed, tapping his leg nervously as he glanced at his diamond-encrusted watch again, not that it told him anything he didn’t already know. The woman beside him shot him an irritated look. He shot her an irritated look right back; he was allowed to be here, damn it, even if he looked like he was young enough to be her son.

The club was exclusive, even more so due to its illicit nature, catering only to the wealthiest and most powerful of Hong-Kong. It was full of middle-aged men and women, engaging in their vices in the hush-hush of this remote neighborhood, where their pampered spouses wouldn’t be caught dead.

The large main room was dark and luxurious, full of purple silk and black velvet seating. There were shadowy alcoves everywhere into which Hendery had seen a variety of patrons disappear into, sometimes with a beautiful person on their arm, sometimes not. Men played cards and smoked cigars around tables, gambling away only a tiny fraction of their fortunes. It wasn’t like they couldn’t just go to work the next day and make all of it back and more.

So this was what the elites of Hong-Kong got up to, when they weren’t drinking from crystal and chortling about the stock market. Fascinating.

Hendery had come here only a few times before. The first had been a drunken laugh with a group of friends, just trying to kill time on a Friday night. He had met someone, a lithe body with a beautiful accent and an even prettier face. His friends had teased him as he stared, but that hadn’t kept him from going over to talk to him.

Ten was his name, Hendery had found out. He worked here, dressed in the expensive silks that draped attractively off his frame, barely covering all of the necessary parts. He had piercings glinting up and down both ears, which Hendery was endlessly enthralled by. They had talked and talked, that first night, and ever since, Hendery had been making trips all the way down here specifically to see Ten. 

In between stressful weeks of classes and dinner parties and museum tours, there was Ten, a breath of fresh air in the midst of the monotony. 

Hendery watched as a boy barely older than him led an old man down a poorly lit hallway, into a private room. He idly wondered if his father had ever visited this place.

He wouldn’t put it past him. Best not to dwell, he decided. He was starting to feel a little queasy.

Where the hell was Ten?

“Fancy meeting you here,” a voice purred directly into his ear. He jumped, nearly spilling his drink on his expensive dress shirt. A hand reached around him and plucked the glass neatly out of his grip.

Ten took a small sip of the alcohol, making a face at the taste. “What the fuck is that?”

“Cabernet,” Hendery replied, distracted by Ten’s skin, exposed and glittering in the low light.

“Well, it’s disgusting,” Ten declared, setting the glass down on the table with another disappointed glance at the blood red liquid.

“Nobody told you to drink it,” Hendery retorted, but it lacked heat. He found Ten to be charming even in his brattiness, and Ten always took his teasing in stride, so it worked out. “Also, you’re late.”

Ten stepped close to Hendery, fixing his shirt collar neatly. “It was for a worthwhile cause,” he said.

“What?” Hendery asked, still a little upset that he’d been made to wait here for so long.

Ten smiled like a cat who’d caught a mouse. Hendery felt a little weak in the knees. “I found us a pilot.”

“You—what?”

Ten glanced around, seeing the woman near them. He took Hendery’s hand. “Come on.”

Hendery was pushed down into one of the nooks, Ten closing the curtains behind them and plopping down in Hendery’s lap. Hendery almost had a heart attack right then and there.

Ten rolled his eyes at the look Hendery was giving him. “Similitude, darling. I should at least pretend to be doing my job.”

Hendery swallowed hard, nodding. Ten would be the death of him, he swore. “What were you saying?”

“I was saying,” Ten murmured, excited. “That I found us a pilot. We leave tonight.”

“Tonight,” echoed Hendery faintly. “Tonight?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Ten said impatiently. “All we need to do is make sure your chauffeur has the night off, and then we can get out of here.”

Hendery’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Take… the car? You’re serious?”

Ten nodded, wrapping his arms around Hendery’s neck. God, he smelled good. Hendery had to use all of his mental energy to focus on what Ten was saying, given the way that Ten was squirming on his lap. “Yeah. We’re getting out of here, just like we talked about.”

Hendery’s brain must be getting fuzzy with his glass of wine and Ten’s intoxicating presence. He didn’t remember exactly agreeing to this, much less tonight. They’d talked about their dreams of getting out, of course, leaving this city and never looking back, escaping these lives that they only occupied by circumstance. He wanted it so badly, breaking out of this monotony.

But he had class tomorrow; his parents might not notice he was missing, but his professors sure as hell would.

“What are you talking about?” Hendery laughed, hands coming up to rest on Ten’s hips, in a moment of boldness.

"Where's your sense of adventure?" Ten tossed back. "You're going to die a boring man, if you live your entire life according to your daddy's rules."

And oh, Ten was leaning in, kissing Hendery squarely on the mouth. Fuck, thought Hendery. It was everything he’d imagined it to be, all those nights spent fantasizing about Ten. It had seemed like a pipe dream.

Ten sighed into Hendery’s mouth, pulling back so that their faces were only inches apart. His voice was sugar-sweet as he whispered in Hendery’s ear, “Run away with me, baby.”

Maybe it was the alcohol. Looking back, Hendery would say it was most definitely the alcohol. It was easier than considering the alternative. He stroked Ten’s face and said, “Okay. Yeah. Okay.”   

“Oh,” Ten added, kissing Hendery again. “I also promised the pilot a small payment for his trouble, of course.”

 

* * *

 

“Winwin, my friend. We meet again,” Ten said in greeting, holding a hand out for the man to shake.

“Who’s this?” The pilot was dressed in simple clothing, inexpensive, sturdy pants and a shiny flight jacket. He didn’t look much older than Hendery, but he must be old enough to have gone through the academy, putting him in his early twenties.  

Ten put an arm around Hendery. “This is my darling Hendery. He is the marvelous individual to which this vehicle belongs.”

The pilot—Winwin?—didn’t look entirely convinced, probably taking in Hendery’s age, but he nodded once in greeting. “You didn’t tell me there was another passenger.”

“Right, well,” Ten smiled that smile he used to entice customers at the club, just a few sways of his hips needed to get them to empty their wallets. “You won’t even notice he’s there.”

Winwin still seemed suspicious, eying Hendery and his expensive outfit. Hendery offered, “It’s my drone. Well, my dad’s, technically. But I’m allowed to take it wherever.”

Hendery gave Ten an inquiring look as the hand tightened on his waist. Winwin seemed to accept this. “Okay. The money?”

Ten reached into his pocket and pulled out a large stack of bills, fresh from Hendery’s bank account, and put the pile into Winwin’s outstretched hands. He counted it, quickly, then nodded and put it away. “Now, can we go?”

Winwin gestured at the drone. “By all means.”

Ten climbed in back without checking to see if Hendery was following. Hendery was panicking a little now, as Winwin slid into the driver’s seat, running his hands along the gears in wonder. Hendery couldn’t do this. What was he thinking? He wasn’t going to follow a stripper that he barely knew to Seoul, no matter how much he liked him. This was ridiculous. His parents would freak out.

Ten poked his head out as Hendery struggled to form words. “You coming, hon?”

Hendery bit his lip, shaking his head. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Ten. I changed my mind.”

Ten’s face changed, just for an instant, annoyance or anger or frustration washing over him. The next moment, his sweet expression was back, seeming relaxed but mildly concerned as he held a hand out for Hendery. “Just come here, baby. It’ll be okay.”

“Ten,” Hendery protested, taking a step back. “No. This is crazy. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Ten’s expression softened, suddenly looking resigned. “Okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Come here.”

Hendery did, hesitantly, stepping up to the door to the drone and leaning in a little, taking Ten’s outstretched hand. Ten leaned up and kissed him, something sickly sweet on his lips, and Hendery let himself be comforted by Ten’s hands caressing his neck and back. This would be fine; he and Ten could keep seeing each other here in Hong-Kong, and Hendery’s life would go on unchanged.

Then Hendery felt something change. Ten’s grip on him tightened, muscles tensing as he pulled him into the car, half on top of Ten. “Wha—Ten?”

The pilot, in the front, couldn’t hear them; he’d already turned on the engine, focused entirely on the controls, oblivious to what was happening in the backseat.

Hendery gasped as he felt darkness on the edges of his vision, having trouble maintaining focus. “What did you—”

Ten settled Hendery in beside him on the seat. Hendery tried to summon the energy to push him away, but he couldn’t figure out how to lift his arms. “Sorry, hon. Can’t take the drone without you in it, I’m afraid.”

He tried to shout, as he felt his consciousness slipping away. Even if he’d been successful, Ten was the only one around to hear him.

He distantly heard the familiar roar of the engine and the activation of the thrusters. The last thing he was conscious of was the pilot speaking into the headset, tinny and garbled, “Ready for takeoff.”

He felt a small jolt as the drone lifted up off the ground and into the sky.


	3. accelerate

Sicheng was loving his life right now.

Granted, it took forgetting all about his passengers in the back, but when he was flying, there was little that could ruin his good mood.

The machine was beautiful, even better than Sicheng had imagined it would be. The throttle didn’t stick at all, the way the one back at the academy had. The engine was powerful, and Sicheng had to make a concerted effort not to floor it.

 _Not until they were out of the city,_ he thought gleefully. Then, he could go as fast as he wanted.

They had reached cruising altitude and Sicheng had smoothly guided the drone onto the expressway, flying through the skyscrapers of Hong-Kong. It was beautiful; it had been so long since Sicheng had been able to fly and actually enjoy the views. He was only a year out of pilot academy, where he had been forced to focus completely on the tasks he had been assigned. Since then, he’d only been able to fly for government-sanctioned events, almost always boring, low-speed exercises.

He’d almost forgotten how much he loved this.

As the first checkpoint came into view a few minutes later, Sicheng killed his engine, using the thrusters to idle in the air as they slowly came to a stop in line. He probably should have made sure Ten and Hendery were awake and ready to talk to the customs agents, if need be. He unbuckled his seatbelt, putting the drone into auto since they were just hovering.

He poked his head through the black curtain dividing the front and the back of the drone, seeing that Hendery was asleep, head resting on Ten’s shoulder. Ten was messing with his interface, tapping on the screen, very focused on his task, apparently, because Sicheng had to clear his throat before Ten looked up.

“Oh, hi there,” Ten said, smiling at Sicheng. “We’re stopping?”

“First checkpoint,” Sicheng nodded. “Registration papers?”

“In the glovebox,” Ten answered smoothly.

“Okay.” Sicheng watched as Ten glanced down at Hendery. The two seemed like unlikely companions; Hendery was so young, probably no more than nineteen. Ten wasn’t a lot older, but he had a worldliness about him that stood in stark contrast to Hendery’s innocent naivety. 

But Sicheng wasn’t one to judge. He was only here to get paid. “You’ll wake him up?”

“Of course,” said Ten, stroking the back of Hendery’s head lightly.

Sicheng watched Hendery stir only the smallest amount. Ten smiled apologetically. “He’s not a morning person.”

Whatever. Sicheng guessed it wasn’t his business.

He sat himself back down in the cockpit, busying himself collecting the registration papers necessary.

He heard a thump from the back.

Which he ignored. Well, prayed that they weren’t having sex. But mostly ignored.

The line was moving, albeit slowly. They would be to the front in no time.

Another, louder thump, followed by a muffled shout.

What the hell was going on back there?

“You guys okay?” Sicheng shouted.

Silence.

Sighing, Sicheng set down the papers and hoisted himself back up, purposefully making lots of noise in the process, just in case they were actually having sex. “I’m coming back there.”

Bracing himself, he poked his head through the curtain and was greeted by Ten, who was currently on top of Hendery, but not in the way that Sicheng would have assumed.

“Stop it, you’re going to hurt yourself!” Ten snarled, twisting Hendery’s arms behind his back. Hendery was breathing hard, Ten’s other hand over his mouth.

Well, shit. This did not seem like a sex thing.

Sicheng just stared at them for a moment. “Uh…” He had absolutely no idea how to proceed. As far as he could remember, Sicheng had not received training for this eventuality in flight school.

Ten looked up at him with wide eyes. “I promise this isn’t what it looks like.”

Hendery managed to bite Ten’s hand, causing him to let go of his mouth with a yelp. “This is exactly what it looks like! He’s crazy, help me!”

“Is this… am I driving a stolen drone, Ten?” Sicheng said through gritted teeth, staring up at the ceiling, trying and failing to keep calm.

“I think the more pertinent charge would be kidnapping, actually,” Ten answered casually as he put Hendery into a headlock.

“Oh my God, I—I’m turning you in! I’m not going down for this!” Sicheng turned to run back into the cockpit, but Ten shouted after him.

“You are going to have a hard time proving that you’re not an accomplice in this, my dear,” Ten noted. Sicheng felt like he was going to be sick. He was right; he didn’t have money for a lawyer, and even if he did, the evidence seemed pretty stacked against him.

He hesitated, hovering in the doorway.

“Hendery,” Ten said, panting as they struggled. “I can help you if you let me, honey. This isn’t what you want to do.”

Hendery went limp. “What do you mean?”

“I know what you want,” Ten said into his ear. “And I can help you get it.”

Sicheng was really unsure how to proceed. This drama that was unfolding seemed above his pay grade, honestly, and the line was moving. He heard a muffled voice through a speaker say, “Hong-Kong Drone Patrol. License and Registration, please.”

Fuck.

He rushed back up front, brandishing the papers as he tried to think rationally. Just get through the checkpoint without any trouble, somehow, and they could figure this out. He wasn’t about to get busted for driving a stolen vehicle when he hadn’t been the one to steal it, damn it.

He smiled at the officer through the window, handing over the documents and praying. He felt like the officer could see straight through him, the serious man eying him suspiciously and then looking the registration up and down.

“Wong Han is the owner of this vehicle?” the customs agent asked.

Sicheng swallowed, throat dry. “Yes.”

“Is he there?” The customs agent was talking to Sicheng like he was stupid. This wasn’t his first time through the checkpoints, of course, but it was his first time lying about it.

“His son is,” Sicheng replied. “Hendery.”

The customs agent checked something on his interface, then nodded. “Right. And he’s available?”

“Well, he was asleep, so…” Sicheng shrugged. “He doesn’t like being woken up.”

The agent gave him a blank stare, unimpressed.  Sicheng tried, “And he's the bosses' son, you understand.”

The officer did not understand, apparently. “I’d like to talk to him, all the same.”

“Right,” Sicheng said, hesitantly. “Uh… okay. Well, let me see what I can—”

“Don’t worry, Winwin,” Hendery interrupted as he climbed into the cockpit, leaning over Sicheng to see the customs agent. “Sorry. I was taking a nap.”

Hendery gave the officer a winning smile, all rich boy charm. He handed over his ID.

The agent gave it a once over, checked his interface again. "No other passengers?" 

Sicheng and Hendery glanced at each other, before simultaneously saying, "No."

"Just us," Hendery gestured between the two of them, dimples on display, handsome and comfortable in his role. 

The officer finally nodded, once, before saying gruffly, “You’re clear. Have a nice night.”

Hendery took his ID back, waving. “Thanks! You too.” He collapsed into the passenger seat, having to curl up his legs in the tiny cockpit. Sicheng sped away, back onto the expressway, before turning to stare at Hendery.

Hendery put his hands over his face, covering his eyes with his palms and pressing hard. Sicheng’s heart was still beating fast. Neither of them said a word.

After a few moments, Sicheng felt another presence at his shoulder. Ten leaned in between his and Hendery’s seats, graceful in his movements as he steadied himself against the drone’s constant motion. “So,” Ten said. “Who’s ready to go to Seoul?”

 


	4. inertia

“I’m not doing it,” Sicheng said. “You’re going to have to find another driver.”

They had pulled over to a rooftop rest area, the bright fluorescent lights of the gas station providing some small comfort as they all piled out of the drone into the cold, windy night.

Hendery stared at Sicheng. “You already lied for us. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is,” Sicheng pointed at Ten accusingly, “ _you_ can’t be trusted. What the fuck happened back there? Is he blackmailing you, Hendery?”

Ten made an offended noise.

Hendery swallowed. “No. I made a choice. To be here.”

“After he kidnapped you, kid? Really?” Sicheng couldn't understand it, unless Ten was threatening Hendery somehow. 

“I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse,” Ten interjected, hopping up on the hood of the drone. “And I don’t know what your problem is, Winwin, really. Any personal drama is resolved.”

“Not resolved,” Hendery answered sourly. “You drugged me! And then you kidnapped me!” His angry expression turned young and hurt, staring down at the ground as his cheeks reddened. “Did you even… did you only kiss me because you needed something from me?”

Sicheng felt like he really didn’t need to be part of this conversation. Ten didn’t seem to be very eager to be involved, either, if his ensuing silence was any indication.

To break the tension of the moment, Sicheng said, “I’ll take you as far as the border, then I’m out. Whatever is going on with you, I don’t want to be a part of it.”

Ten stared at Sicheng for a moment longer, then nodded once in ascent. “I need to get to Seoul. It doesn’t matter how I get there as long as I do.”

 Hendery made a small noise in the back of his throat and walked away, towards the convenience store. Ten watched him go, face impossible to read. He pulled out a cigarette, lighting up and taking a slow drag.

“This is what you do, isn’t it,” Sicheng said quietly. “You make people want you and then you use them and leave them behind like they're nothing. As long as you get what you want in the end. Is he just a toy to you?”

Ten startled where he was sitting on the drone, almost dropping his cigarette, inhaling sharply and looking up at Sicheng, raw and intense in a way that Sicheng hadn’t seen before. He looked like a real person, for a moment. Then the moment passed, and his eyes regained that hungry, predatory glint, sharp and glittering prettily. He smiled, and it wasn’t a pleasant expression. “You don’t know anything about me, darling.”

“I don’t think I want to,” Sicheng responded honestly.

Ten rolled his neck, tilting his head back to stare up at the night sky, exhaling smoke. Sicheng glanced up there, too, even though he knew what he would see. There were no stars, in Hong-Kong, just a smoky darkness, the horizon set ablaze by the city lights as far as the eye could see.

But Ten was staring up there like it held all the secrets to the universe. He wondered if Ten saw himself up there, nothing but chemical-laden haze where a million glittering diamonds should be.

“No, you don’t,” Ten said finally, closing his eyes, still wearing a small smile.

Sicheng looked back at the bright lights of the store, watching for Hendery to return. “Why do you want to go to Seoul so badly, anyway? What’s the hurry?”

Ten’s eyes snapped open, but he didn’t look at Sicheng. “You’re very chatty all of a sudden, friend.”

“I’m not your friend,” Sicheng said. “And I don’t trust you. I don’t know what you’re holding over Hendery, but it’s not okay.”

Ten laughed. “You’ve known him for an hour! I’ve known him for weeks. He’s some spoiled brat who’s living off of Daddy’s money.” He shrugged, nihilistic and grinning as he tapped his fingers on his cigarette. “His eye caught on something shiny, and he wanted to have it. I only gave him what he wanted.”

“I guess everyone’s happy,” Sicheng said, monotone, eyes catching on Hendery coming out of the convenience store and striding towards them, bag in hand.

“Hi, baby,” Ten jumped off the hood of the drone, suddenly youthful and exuberant as he smiled widely at Hendery, as if he hadn’t just roofied him an hour ago. Sicheng kind of wanted to be sick.

 Hendery’s brow knit together, upset and uncertain as he said, “Don’t.” He zagged to avoid Ten, coming to stand beside Sicheng instead. “I bought snacks. I’m really sorry about before.”

“It’s not your fault, kid,” Sicheng said quickly, trying to rearrange his features into something that didn’t resemble queasiness. “It’s not. And you don’t have to keep going, you know? I can take you and your car home right now.”

The young man didn’t look convinced, giving Sicheng a sweet, apologetic smile. “I need to go to Seoul. But… I feel bad. For the trouble I’ve caused you tonight. You seem really nice, Winwin. I totally understand if you aren’t comfortable continuing the trip.”

Sicheng had no authority here; it wasn’t his car, it was Hendery’s, who had every right to go where he wanted, with whomever he wanted. If he bailed now, they would find another pilot, likely one with worse credentials and a looser sense of morality, knowing Ten.

This kid didn’t stand a chance against Ten’s mind games. Sicheng wasn’t sure he did, either, to be totally honest with himself, but he was older, more experienced, less naïve. He’d dealt with people like this, who were just looking out for themselves.

And damn it, he wasn’t generally a charitable person, but there was no way he was going to leave Hendery, upbeat and young and seemingly unbroken, alone with Ten for the foreseeable future. Twenty-one and unattached, it wasn’t like Sicheng had anywhere better to be.

He cleared his throat, closing his eyes against the migraine building in his head. “I’ll take you to Seoul.”

Hendery’s eyes filled with hope. “Really?”

What was Sicheng doing? “Yep.”

Hendery’s happiness was contagious as he pulled Sicheng into a hug, babbling, “Thank you so much, Winwin! It’ll be just like in those old movies, where they drive across America, except, you know, we’ll be in a drone—”

Over Hendery’s shoulder, Ten was watching Sicheng intently, eyes dark and speculative. Sicheng stared back, trying not to give anything away on his face. This was about making sure Hendery got to Seoul unscathed, he told himself, and nothing more.

Ten was attractive, yes, but a darkness lurked just beneath the glossy exterior, one that drew people in with the gravity of a black hole. He seemed to consume and suffocate, a force of nature that destroyed everything in its path without a thought, without a care.

And Sicheng swore in that moment Hendery wouldn’t be one of those people. He tilted his head at Ten defiantly, reveling in the way that Ten’s expression shifted, intrigued, then pleased.

Oh, this was a very bad idea.

 


	5. go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this becoming a full-blown road trip AU without my intending it to?  
> Hell yeah it is  
> I'm driving 7 hours and crossing a country border this weekend to go see NCT 127 in Vancouver (!!!), so that may have influenced the vibe. I'm so fucking excited.  
> Please enjoy some Sicheng/Hendery bonding time.

 

It seemed like a dream.

Hendery had been in a lot of drones. His parents owned probably a dozen; he didn’t think he’d even ridden in all of them, many sitting in a hanger somewhere under constant care, meant to look pretty but never actually used for their purpose.

But he’d never felt this free before. He was always being carted from one destination to another, to violin lessons and charity fundraisers. He’d never had a lot of say in where he went or when, but he did it without question, because that was what he was supposed to do. Now, as he sat in the passenger seat of a drone headed out of the country, it was his choice. And he didn’t realize that could feel so good.

He remembered Ten’s words in his ear. _I know what you want._

Ten had been right. He vaguely recalled a night several weeks ago, when he and Ten had been talking in a corner of the club. Hendery had been rambling on about his dreams, his aspirations, his wants, tongue loosened by alcohol, and Ten had remembered.

He tried not to read too much into that, but it was hard.

Maybe Ten did care about him after all, somewhere deep down. Or maybe he just had a good memory and knew what to exploit.

Hurt crashed over him once again as he thought about the events of the evening. Hendery had a forgiving nature, too forgiving, as his friends often said. He trusted quickly and easily, always wanting to see the best in people. But this seemed like too much to forgive, even for him. 

He’d been so stupid to think that Ten actually cared about him.

His mother’s voice rang in his ears: _You are better than others, Hendery. Because of who you are and the things you have, people will try to use you to elevate themselves. You must beware of these people. They are not your true friends._

He didn’t feel like was above Ten because of his money, his status. He didn’t feel like he was above Winwin. Right now, he didn’t feel like he was above anyone at all. He felt small, in the cockpit of this drone, staring down at the city, knees curled against his chest. He felt like a child.

Winwin didn’t talk to him like he was a child. He studied the pilot’s profile in the dim light cast up from the control panel, his clear skin, his high cheekbones, his delicate features contrasting with his serious demeanor. They’d been making small talk for a few minutes and hit a natural lull in the conversation.

Hendery broke the silence, wanting to hear Winwin talk again. He liked the way his deep voice wrapped around the vowel sounds, his rural dialect making every word a little longer, a little more syrupy than Hendery’s own clipped city dialect. Winwin didn’t seem to be a big talker, so Hendery had to make an effort to drag the words from him. “Do you have family in Hong-Kong?”

“No,” Winwin replied. “They’re all back home.”

“Oh,” Hendery said. “Do you see them often?”

“Not since I started the academy,” he answered. “It’s hard, traveling on a pilot’s salary.”

Hendery nodded, as if he understood. He didn’t even deal with money, usually. It was something that he rarely even thought about. “Do you miss them?”

“All the time,” Winwin admitted quietly. “But we talk, once in a while.”

“Do you think you’ll always live in Hong-Kong?”

Winwin smiled wryly. “What’s with all the questions, kid?”

“I didn’t mean to pry,” Hendery said quickly. “Sorry. It’s a bad habit.”

“No, it’s okay,” the pilot replied, reaching down to mess with the cruise control settings as he merged onto a deserted highway labeled in bold lettering, HONG-KONG BORDER, 5 KILOMETERS. “I’m just not used to it, that’s all.”

Hendery hummed, hungrily reading every sign that they passed. “We’re almost to the border? Already?”        

“Yes.” Winwin clicked his signal lights on so that the customs agents would be able to see them coming. “Just another minute or two.”

He glanced over at Hendery, whose breathing had sped up noticeably. “We can still turn around, you know. If you want to go home.”

Hendery thought about it, thought about making the hour’s drive back to his family’s luxurious penthouse uptown, about being dropped off at the door and greeted by his cat and his butler. He thought about going to class tomorrow like nothing had happened, never seeing Ten or Winwin again, lost in the thrall of the city.

“I want to keep going,” Hendery said firmly. “I’ve just… I’ve never been out of Hong-Kong before. Is it really different?”

Winwin’s small smile made another appearance. Hendery examined the corners of it carefully, how it softened the sharp edges of his face and made him look younger. “Yeah, it is. It’s beautiful. The trees and the mountains and the water. It’s too bad we’re making a lot of the flight in the dark.”

“I’ve seen that kind of thing in pictures,” pondered Hendery. “And movies, that sort of stuff. Oh, and I went to the arboretum once.”

“That’s nothing,” Winwin whispered conspiratorially. “They try to make you think you have everything, here in the city. So you never want to leave. But there’s so much more to the world than Hong-Kong.”

Hendery’s breath caught in excitement, swept up in the mental picture Winwin was painting for him. It was dangerous, speaking of the unnamed _they_ that Winwin was mentioning, especially in this context. Hendery felt like a fugitive, like they were doing something illicit and taboo, even though it was perfectly legal for them to leave the city.

“I can’t wait to see it, Winwin,” Hendery breathed.

The pilot turned as the border came into view, hesitating for a moment as he met Hendery’s eyes. “You can call me Sicheng. That’s my real name.”

“Sicheng,” Hendery tried out, pleased with the indication of trust. “It’s good to meet you, Sicheng. I’m Hendery.”

Sicheng laughed a little at that, sticking out the hand he wasn’t using to steer. Hendery grasped it, shaking once enthusiastically.

Hendery heard Ten stir in the back as the engine cut out, the drone coming to a slow, controlled stop onto the platform, and he felt his good mood evaporate as he remembered what they were doing, and who they were with.

They had reached the border.

 

* * *

 

 

They had to do the whole song-and-dance again, this time a little smoother. Both Hendery and Sicheng showed their paperwork, with the officers recording who they were and where they were going. Sicheng had to provide a detailed flight plan, going over emergency stop points and fuel stations.

Ten didn’t make an appearance, which was just as well.

The only snag appeared when asked, “And how long will you be in Seoul?”

They both hesitated, looking at each other. Sicheng supposed he would have to figure out a way back on his own, if Hendery meant to stay there for any length of time. They hadn’t discussed this, with Sicheng originally planning to leave Ten there either way, paying his way back easily with the money he’d have once the job was completed. It was only meant to be a one-way trip.

Hendery slowly said, “I don’t know yet.”

The officer raised an eyebrow at him, severe and demanding as she stared him down. “You need to figure it out,” she told him sternly. “You can’t stay in a foreign state indefinitely without filing the appropriate paperwork.

“Uh… a few days,” Hendery amended, internally wincing at how much coursework he would miss in that amount of time. “We’ll be back in… a week.”

Okay. That seemed to do the trick. Hendery had no idea if that was a realistic amount of time, but he hadn’t really thought this through in the first place.

“Can I send a message with your interface?” Hendery asked suddenly, remembering that he had the parents he did.

The officer conceded with a little wheedling from Hendery, and Hendery tapped out a simple message to his mother: _I’ll be gone a few days. I’m safe. Love you! –Hendery_

His parents were going to kill him when he got back, but whatever. That was a problem for later. At least they wouldn’t report him missing; he was a legal adult, so he was allowed to leave without their consent.

As they sat in the closed cockpit, waiting to be cleared, Hendery cleared his throat and called for Ten in the back. “Are you hungry, Ten? There’s still food, if you want some.”

Sicheng gave him a look, frowning. Ten’s place in their trio seemed tentative at best, and Sicheng had made his opinion on Ten clear: he didn’t want him here. Ten had stayed quiet since the gas station, not trying to get too close to Hendery or call either one of them his sickly-sweet pet names, as if he knew he was just one careless comment away from being kicked out of their fragile alliance. He hadn’t said anything at all, actually, which Hendery would think seemed out of character, if he thought that he knew Ten at all, which clearly, he didn’t.

He was mad, but he didn’t want Ten to starve.

There was a beat of silence. “No, it’s okay,” came the quiet reply.

Sicheng put a hand on Hendery’s shoulder as Hendery shifted uncomfortably. “He’s not your responsibility. He tried to kidnap you, remember? You don’t have to be nice to him.”

Hendery sighed, stowing the bag of snacks on the floor between his feet. “I know. But I’ll need him, when we get to Seoul.”

“Do you?” Sicheng asked harshly. Hendery was taken aback by his tone, which must have shown on his face, because Sicheng added, more softly, “I’m just confused, is all. About what you could want so badly that you would be willing to keep him around.”

Hendery shrugged, not looking at the pilot. “You’re gonna think it’s stupid.”

“I promise I won’t,” Sicheng said.

Hendery watched the officers out the window buzz around them out the window, checking records and making phone calls. He was very aware that Ten could hear them, now that the engine was off. “I want to be a singer. My parents are expecting me to take over the family business, but… all I’ve ever wanted was to sing.”

He didn’t look at Sicheng, not wanting to see his reaction. He stared at his fingers, waiting for Sicheng to laugh at him. He felt Sicheng’s eyes on him, before he heard, “I think that’s amazing.”

His eyes snapped up to Sicheng’s, looking for signs that he was joking. He was staring back earnestly from the pilot’s seat. “Really?”

"Hell yeah. My parents didn’t want me to be a pilot, either. They thought it was too far away, too dangerous,” Sicheng replied thoughtfully. “They wanted me to work on the farm instead. So yeah, I get it. The only thing I don’t get is why you need Ten’s help.”

“He knows people that I don’t,” Hendery said. “Everyone knows that if you want to sing, Seoul is the place to be. It’s, like, the entertainment center of the world these days. I can’t even speak the language, though. Ten does. He lived in Seoul before coming here.”

Sicheng snorted. “Right. I’m sure he did.”

Hendery looked back at the black curtain dividing Ten from the two of them. He lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “You think he’s lying?”

The pilot pursed his lips. “Has he said one true thing all night?”

Hendery knew there was a chance, but he also knew that Ten had actually lived a lot of places, from the things he knew about and the languages he could speak; he didn’t think it was outlandish for Seoul to be one of them. But apparently, he was a bad judge of character, given the events of the evening. Sicheng’s tone softened as he added, almost too quiet to be audible, “Look, kid, I hope it works out. I just don’t want Ten to take advantage of you, that’s all. He’s no good.”

“I know,” Hendery said softly, staring intently at his hands in his lap. “But I couldn’t live with myself if I just let it pass me by without trying. I don’t want to be a sleazy businessman my entire life. I can’t—I can’t be like my father.”

Sicheng nodded in understanding, giving Hendery another rare smile. Hendery found himself treasuring each one more and more as the night went on, so unexpected, so startling.

Sicheng was odd in his somberness, but he was so genuine in a way that stood in stark contrast to the man in the backseat. He didn’t try to flatter Hendery, or say what he thought Hendery wanted to hear, or really say anything at all except for the truth, even when it was unpleasant. And Hendery liked that.

“You’re cool, Sicheng. I think we should be friends,” Hendery declared with a grin.

Sicheng laughed lightly. “Okay, Hendery. That sounds good to me.”

Just then, they received the signal from customs that they were clear. The light above the platform turned green, and the landing wheels were released from their locks. Sicheng slowly navigated the drone into position as the gate opened.

Hendery watched closely as Sicheng’s eyes lit up with a fire he hadn’t yet seen. He reached for the throttle, breath seeming to catch a little as he went. The drone accelerated as they navigated out of the border station, picking up even more speed as soon as they were out and onto the interstate, which was completely clear and black ahead of them, the only sign of human intervention the blue lights lining the edges of the flight path.

Sicheng raised his eyebrows at Hendery, a spark of something mischievous and youthful passing across his face as he flipped the speed guard over from CITY to INTERSTATE on his dash. This was Sicheng’s natural habitat, Hendery could see, not the busy, well-manicured expressways of Hong-Kong, but something wilder, more powerful.

Sicheng flashed Hendery a smile that was all at once dazzling and a little chaotic, making Hendery’s bloodstream flood with adrenaline. He hadn’t seen much of this Sicheng yet, and he found himself staring for a second too long. Sicheng didn’t seem to notice, though, too focused on the road ahead.

“This is it,” Sicheng breathed. “You’re out of Hong-Kong, kid. I hope you don’t mind if we go fast.”

Hendery’s heart beat fast, filled with a wondrous feeling he couldn’t quite name as they sped away from the lights of the city into the vast unknown. No, he thought: he didn’t mind this at all.


	6. interlude: gravity

Ten was so tired.

It had been a long night. And they weren’t even close to being done, still close to eight hours left in their journey, if all went according to plan. He had to keep his guard up, with these people, which meant staying awake. Hendery was in the front, chatting in low tones with Winwin, barely audible if Ten really focused. This left him alone in the back, safer, but without an active threat close by to keep him alert, or at the very least some stilted conversation with one of the boys to keep his mind occupied. The roar of the drone’s engine and the darkness in the back was enough to tempt him to doze, but he resisted. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Not when there was so much at stake.

The sparse lights of the suburbs shone garish and neon below them, lifeless, gradually draining the souls of all of the people inside. Ten stared out at them, trying not to think. He needed to keep a clear head. And he needed to stay awake.

He heard a snippet of Winwin and Hendery’s murmured conversation, just barely, as he listened intently.

“…been flying?”

“Graduated a year ago.”

“From the Academy?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. I’ve always wanted to…”      

Ten gave up. The engine was so loud. And he was too tired. He was just going to have to trust that they weren’t plotting against him, that the bargaining chips he had used to win over each of them would hold, would be enough to keep them here.

This was Ten's currency, worming his way under skin and finding out what made people tick, what they would do anything to have. Once he knew, he could use it as leverage. It wasn't difficult, not with most people. The pilot had been tough, though, and a bit of a surprise. 

He hadn’t expected the pilot to care so much about Hendery’s well-being. Maybe he just wanted to fuck him; Ten didn’t know. Either way, his play had worked, and Winwin had stayed, driven by some sort of weird protector complex. 

Ten didn't mind being the bad guy. Not tonight. 

His muscles ached, and he longed to stretch them out, to take a hot shower. He felt sticky, still covered head to toe in the glittery lotion they had him wear for work, that made his skin look like it was sparkling. He wanted to tear every inch of it off of him, leave it behind in Hong-Kong for someone else to find and use and make money off of. He wanted a bowl of Thai noodles, the kind his mom used to make when he was little.

He wanted to jump out of this drone.

He didn’t want to die, just to feel the wind against his face. He didn’t like small spaces like this, but he tolerated them, for the sake of convenience. He imagined the thrill of it, opening the hatch and simply stepping out into the open air. He wanted to feel the drop of his stomach as he fell. He wanted to see the lights of Hong-Kong turn into blurry lines of light as he hurtled past skyscrapers towards the ground, the pull of gravity steady and reliable, like an old friend.

He indulged in the fantasy for only a moment. He needed to focus on getting to Seoul, without getting caught up in the fear of what he might find when he gets there. It was the same place that he had run from, all those years ago, and here he was, going back voluntarily. It felt kind of like throwing himself out of a moving drone, except his preservation instincts kept him from doing that.

He guessed it was inevitable, going back. Like gravity.

He just needed to get to Seoul.


	7. drop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um right so this was originally intended to be like a ten thousand word project, but uh here we are and I still have a LOT of ground to cover, so. I guess this is my life now?? This is what happens when I start posting a fic without a solid draft first.

Sicheng didn’t really know what Hendery’s angle was here.

He seemed like a nice enough kid, but he was incredibly talkative, and certainly a little prying for Sicheng’s taste. He asked a lot of questions that Sicheng didn’t know how to answer.

He assumed that he would fall asleep soon, but here they were, an hour and a half out of Hong-Kong, and Hendery was not slowing down in the slightest, still jumping from topic to topic faster than Sicheng could really keep up with. It kept Sicheng’s mind occupied, yeah, but there was only so much he could take. He just kept in his mind the money—that beautiful five thousand dollars that he would get once they were in Seoul—and tried not to sigh too loudly.

They were far enough out of the city now that the lights were few and far in between, darkness stretching ahead of them for kilometers without interruption. It was refreshing, when in the city, light was everywhere, all the time, night and day. For Sicheng, the darkness reminded him of home.

Ten was still presumably sleeping in the back. Sicheng found his mind drifting to Ten’s dark eyes, his arrogant swagger, as Hendery rambled on about his rich-person university in the city. Sicheng knew that Ten was trouble, but there was something so intriguing about his dark malignity.

Hendery, on the other hand, was all light, seemingly full of sweet smiles and happy words. Sicheng couldn’t believe that he was in such high spirits, after the night he’d had, but he guessed the kid was more resilient than he looked.

“Where are we now?” Hendery asked, after finishing his story, looking around outside as if the dark sky would provide any clues.

Sicheng glanced at his flight map, a flashing green dot indicating their position. “We’re just entering Jiangxi Province.”

Hendery squinted down through the thick glass. “Are those mountains down there?”

“Probably,” Sicheng answered with a shrug. “Yeah, should be.”

“Wow,” Hendery said in awe. “That’s so cool.”

Sicheng had flown through these mountains countless times for drills back in school, so he had been rather desensitized to them, he supposed. They were fun but dangerous to fly through, so he was sticking to the airspace above them to be safe, even though it would use more fuel—it was on Hendery’s dime, so he doubted it would be a problem.

“You can’t really see much at night, but yeah,” Sicheng responded. “You’ve really never been out there before?”

“No.” Hendery was still trying to catch glimpses of the mountains through the low-hanging clouds and darkness. “I don’t even know anyone that’s been out of Hong-Kong, except for you and Ten.”

Sicheng shook his head, whistling lowly. “They keep you pretty locked up, huh?”

Hendery glanced over sharply. “I thought it was because it’s not safe or something.”

Sicheng snorted. “I mean, Hong-Kong isn’t safe, either, but they don’t tell you that in uptown, do they? It’s paternalistic bullshit.”

Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Hendery’s eyes widen. “You can’t say that kind of thing, Sicheng!”

“Okay,” Sicheng said, rolling his eyes. “You wanna try steering for a minute? I have to check the interface real quick.”

"Uh… is that allowed?” Hendery asked, but his voice was tinged with excitement.

“Yeah, it’s easy. We’re just going in a straight line, and there’s nothing ahead of us for miles. I’ll just be a second. I wanna double-check that I know where we can fuel up in the middle of the night. Just to be safe.”

He unbuckled from the seat, pointing at the controls as he went. “Hold this, make sure we keep going straight ahead. Here’s the throttle. You probably won’t need to do anything with that, but just in case... Yep, slow down, speed up. Perfect. Don’t touch anything else.”

He climbed out of the cockpit, Hendery sliding into his spot nervously. He held the steering wheel tightly, giving Sicheng a goofy grin and a thumb’s up after a moment of successful flight.

He edged his way into the back and was greeting by Ten staring unnervingly at him. Sicheng raised his hands. “I’m just grabbing my interface.”

He shuffled through his bag, which had been stuffed unceremoniously on the floor under the seat, finding the thin screen and opening his Academy reference guide for fuel stops around China. Feeling Ten’s eyes on him, he said, “You could sleep, you know. Instead of sitting back here in the dark like a creep.”

After a beat of silence, Ten answered, “I could sleep, but I kind of like making you squirm."

“Of course you do.” Sicheng scanned through the information quickly, finding what he needed.

“May I ask the classic question? If you’re here, who’s driving this drone?”

“Not really any of your business, but Hendery’s steering for me.”

“Oh, because I’m sure a nineteen-year-old business major with no training is fully capable of piloting a drone through the skies of mainland China.”

“Look,” Sicheng said, irritated, shutting off his interface with a click. “You are lucky I didn’t hand you over to the fucking cops, and that Hendery was still willing to let you tag along on this little expedition after what you did. Don’t push your luck, asshole.”

Ten was quiet for a moment. Sicheng could barely see him in the low light back here, but he could make out the set of his mouth, the shadows under his eyes, the paleness of his skin as he turned to look out the small window.

Sicheng shoved the interface back in the bag, making sure it was password-protected, and stood, fully intending to high-tail it back to the cockpit as quickly as possible. Something about Ten’s posture stopped him, though. “Are you okay, man?”

Ten gave him an amused look at that, leaning against the window. “You’re concerned about my well-being now? I’m touched, honey.”

“Just asking,” Sicheng grumbled, annoyed. He wanted nothing more than to punch that expression off of his stupid face, but he doubted Ten could take it, in his current state. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Well, I’m not,” Ten bit back, lips turning up into a grimace. “Now, please, I think you have a drone to pilot. Sometime before we crash into the Sea of China would be nice.”

“Fuck you,” Sicheng snarled, just as he heard a startled shout of, “Sicheng?” from the front.

And then he heard them.

Police sirens.

Ten heard them, too, sitting up straight and looking around.

Sicheng gestured in the air around them and loudly demanded, “Is this you?”

Ten didn’t answer, just stared back, white as a sheet. Sicheng grit his teeth and sprinted up front, just as Hendery floored the engine of the drone.

“Hendery, what the fuck? Slow down!” Sicheng shouted, looking in the radar at the two hover-cars coming up fast behind them. “That is the state police behind us, and they’re not going to fucking appreciate chasing us!”

"My father reported the drone stolen,” Hendery spluttered, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “I just… I didn’t think he would notice so quickly. He usually just ignores me.”

Sicheng leaned over Hendery, checking the communication log. Sure enough, the cops had sent a simple, but effective message: STOP THE VEHICLE IMMEDIATELY. REPORTED STOLEN BY OWNER.

“Switch with me, I’ll just explain to them,” Sicheng said, talking quickly as the sirens got louder and Hendery’s driving became less controlled. He was not about to be arrested—he was on the verge for the second time today because of these fucking lunatics—for the sake of a teenager’s rebellion against his parents. “It’ll be okay, Hendery.”

“No! He’ll kill me! He’s come close before.” Something in Hendery’s voice, urgent and panicked, made Sicheng pause.

This suddenly seemed less like a delinquent teenager situation and more like… something else. If they stopped right now, Sicheng would likely be fine, just Hendery’s hired man, not to blame for the actions of a CEO’s bratty young son. Sicheng would be fine, but he wasn’t sure Hendery would be. He imagined the cops dragging Hendery back home in tears, imagined what might happen once he was there, if Hendery was to be believed.

He didn’t know what would happen to Ten. Frankly, he wasn’t sure he cared.

Hendery’s hands were shaking, on the verge of tears as he stared straight ahead, still picking up speed. “Please, Sicheng. I can’t go back. Please.”

Fuck it. He was tired of Hong-Kong anyway. “Alright, move.” Hendery looked up at him, eyes pleading. “I’m not going to stop, but you have to let me drive or you’re going to crash this thing. I promise I won’t stop. Just trust me.”

And Sicheng could lose his license for this. He prayed that this wasn’t typical rich kid melodrama as Hendery leaped from the pilot’s seat to be quickly replaced by Sicheng. Ten had come up front, as well, standing at Sicheng’s side and bracing against the seats as he waited with bated breath, looking nearly as terrified as Hendery as they all watched the red and blue flashing lights in the drone’s rear-view mirror.

These two people were going to get him killed or arrested before the night was over.

Sicheng slowed down incrementally, hearing both Hendery and Ten start speaking at once as they tried to get him to speed up. He slowed down a bit more, the cops coming up right on their tail and the sirens piercing in their proximity. He felt Ten grip his shoulder tightly.

Then Sicheng plunged the drone downward, directly into the darkness below.

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know what you think! i'm kind of hitting a point where I can't tell if people actually like this or not lol. Very slow burn, but I promise we're going somewhere


	8. collide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a long one, but the rest of the boys are finally here!

“Hey, how much you want for that drone?”

This was not an uncommon phrase for Lucas to be uttering. Unfortunately, the three young men didn’t seem terribly responsive to it, all of them blinking at him in surprise and confusion at the flashlight that Lucas was shining on them in the darkness.

Well, it had been worth a shot.

Lucas and his crew generally ran the opposite direction from police sirens. In fact, they quite often had occasion to do so. But this time, Lucas had seen the drone coming in hot on his radar, and he couldn’t resist when he’d identified it visually. It was a nice drone, he could see now—very minimal damage had been sustained from the descent. Either a really good pilot was at its helm, or it was extremely well-built. Or both, Lucas supposed, but good pilots were hard to come by these days.

“Right, uh, you okay?” Lucas remembered his manners. He was standing in the middle of the forest at two in the morning, and he knew that a lot of people were a little put off by that kind of behavior.

The occupants of the drone had climbed out just as Lucas hopped off his bike, following the path of descent he and his friends had seen from their shop. None of these guys looked like they were much older than Lucas, maybe early twenties, but even so, they seemed like a weird combo, in Lucas’ opinion. There was a guy in a flight jacket—the pilot, Lucas would assume—and another one in a dress shirt and what looked to be very expensive trousers.

A third man, small in stature with piercings and a leopard-print vest—Lucas respected bold fashion choices—spoke first, smiling sweetly. “Hi there. Is there a town nearby, by any chance? Somewhere we can go?”

Lucas cocked his head. “Well, yeah. We’re a few kilometers out. Weird place to land your drone, did ya know?”

“You a cop?” the pilot asked bluntly.

Lucas laughed, delighted by the question. “Nope, not me! You?”

The pilot exchanged glances with the other two. “No. We’re just travelers.”

“Good, good,” Lucas said. He stared at the three of them in curiosity. “We get a lot of those around here. I’m from Hong-Kong myself.”

The fancy-looking one shifted his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. He kept looking to his two companions, as if asking them what to do. Interesting.

Lucas was quickly developing one of his very good ideas. It was lucky that none of his buddies were here to talk him out of it. “Look, you guys want to come with me? Me and my friends, we’re pretty good at avoiding the police.”

“Who says that’s what we’re doing?” the pretty one in the leopard-print hedged, that charming smile still painted on.

“Well, I saw you on your way down,” Lucas pointed at the sky, indicating their trajectory downward. “I’m in the business of drones, ya see.” He grinned, gesturing at the smoking hunk of metal behind them. “And yours looks very fast.”

“What kind of business?” the pilot asked, eying Lucas suspiciously.

“That’s a question for later, dude,” Lucas answered. “For now, the cops are definitely gonna find you and your drone if we don’t hurry. They have scanners, you know? Even in these trees, they’ll find it eventually.”

The three men were silent. The anxious one finally spoke up, “What do you propose we do?”

“Let me call my friends. We’ll move the drone for you. And you can come chill at our place until the cops are gone.” Lucas spread his hands out in front of him, smiling.

“In exchange for what?”

“Well, you see, I did say that we’re in the business of drones.”

Posh Kid scanned the sky nervously, before looking guiltily at Lucas. “It’s stolen.”

The other two men turned to glare at the third. Lucas just smiled, unsurprised. “It’s not a problem, man.”

The three looked at each other, seeming to have a silent argument. Then they looked at the drone, and back at Lucas.

The pretty one answered, “Alright. We’re in.”

Lucas whooped in celebration and held a fist out for the pilot to bump. He stared at it, unimpressed. Well, apparently the pilot was no fun. Whatever.

“I think we’re going to get along great, boys. I’m Lucas.”

  

* * *

     

Hendery was very much alarmed by what was happening.

He was pretty sure Lucas was a criminal. He was positive that his friend YangYang was, with the way the two of them talked, laughing and high fiving at the prospect of hiding some strangers from the police and loading up an expensive—stolen—drone on their rig to hover back to some undisclosed location.

Hendery himself had never done anything illegal. Until now, he supposed. He felt a little bad, even though he knew it was for a good reason.

He felt a twinge of guilt as he thought about the risk that Sicheng had taken to help him. When he’d heard the police, he’d panicked; at that point, he would have done anything to stay out of the grasp of his father.

He really hadn’t thought his father would notice so quickly.

These people were totally unlike anyone he’d ever met. There was Lucas, dressed head-to-toe in worn leather and perpetually grinning, who seemed delighted to have stumbled across them. He had called his friends to come meet them, to retrieve the drone, after they had reluctantly promised it to them, who showed up within ten minutes with a rig.

Sicheng and Ten both eyed the strangers distrustfully, so Hendery figured he probably should, too. But they seemed pretty nice, actually, apart from the criminal thing.

YangYang was driving the rig, with Hendery in the front seat and Sicheng and Ten squeezed together in the tiny backseat area of the cab, Lucas on his bike riding along side them. YangYang was Hendery’s age, maybe even a bit younger, and although he seemed at first impression energetic and little too manic to be natural, he quickly started telling them about his dogs, which won over Hendery immediately.

Hm. Maybe Hendery needed to re-evaluate his criteria for good first-impressions. 

“My dogs are the best,” YangYang was saying fondly.

“Can I meet them?” Hendery asked eagerly. 

YangYang frowned. “They’re back in Germany.”

“Oh,” Hendery said. “That sucks.”

“Yeah,” agreed YangYang. “It does.”

“How did you end up here?” wondered Hendery. “This must be far from home for you.”

YangYang grinned, bouncing back quickly. “How does anyone end up anywhere? Stole a drone.”

“That seems… like a bit of an overgeneralization,” Hendery stuttered, taken aback by the ease of the admission.

“Well, worked for both of us, huh?” YangYang laughed, gesturing back and forth between himself and Hendery.

Hendery couldn’t really argue with that logic.

 

* * *

 

While Hendery was engaged in conversation with YangYang, Ten and Sicheng were arguing.

"Why the fuck were you so scared of the cops?” Sicheng demanded. “If last night was any indication, you do illegal shit a lot. Now, what is it? Drugs?”

“No,” Ten scoffed. “Do I look like I’m on drugs?”

“How the hell would I know?”

Ten snorted. “You really know how to make a guy feel special, Winwin.”

Sicheng was ready to slap him. Again. After only thirty seconds of conversation. “You are not doing yourself any favors by being shady, man.”

“Well, that’s up to me, isn’t it?” Ten pursed his lips, turning away, staring out of the moving rig. “It’s not like you trust cops anymore than I do.”

Sicheng told himself he was just engaging with Ten because he needed to be kept in check. It was infuriating, like talking to a wall, if the wall was really pretty and lied all the time.

He glanced over at YangYang, who was happily chatting with Hendery about everything under the sun. Good--they were both distracted. Sicheng lowered his voice and said into Ten’s ear, “I will figure it out. You might as well just tell me now.”

Ten studied him, small smile spreading across his tired face. For a moment, Sicheng thought he might actually answer honestly. Then he said very seriously, “I’m a jewel thief.”

“Oh my God.” Sicheng was so done with this guy, it was ridiculous.

“No?” grinned Ten playfully. Sicheng’s jaw set as he tried not to react. “Okay, how about… I’m a spy?”

“I hate you,” Sicheng grit out.

Ten gave him a fond look. “You are so bad at flirting, darling.”

Sicheng laughed spitefully. “As if I would flirt with you. You’re delusional.”

Ten raised an eyebrow at him, voice as quiet as Sicheng’s. They were so close together that it wasn’t difficult to hear. “I’m flattered, truly, but not interested. I don’t get off on the whole brooding pilot thing.”

Sicheng shook his head, exasperated. “You think you’re the center of the world, right? Well, bad news. You’re not.”

Ten sighed and leaned back against the seat. “Ah, Winwin. You’re no fun. And I here I was thinking we were becoming closer.”

Sicheng rolled his eyes, shifting as far away from Ten as he could manage in the cramped cabin of the rig. Hendery’s eyes caught his, still engaged with his conversation with YangYang but noticing Sicheng’s small movement. Hendery gave him a sympathetic smile, as he looked between the two of them, noting the tense silence that had descended between them.

YangYang noticed as well, apparently, because he looked in the rearview mirror curiously. “I’m sensing some tension back there. Anything y’all want to talk about?”

Sicheng huffed. “Nope.”

“What was your name again, dear?” Ten inquired, still staring out the window at the dark forest.

“YangYang,” he answered brightly.

“YangYang, you seem wonderful, but I really don’t think you are equipped to be our relationship counselor.”

“I don’t know,” mused YangYang. “I’ve been told I’m wise beyond my years. How long have y’all been together?”

“We’re not,” protested Sicheng.

Ten ignored him. “Oh, we’ve been around the block together. It just feels like he never listens, you know?”

“Yeah,” YangYang agreed knowingly. “I see that.”

Hendery twisted in his seat to look back at Sicheng, making a face. Sicheng smiled in spite of himself, exasperated. He tried to remember how he had gotten himself in this situation.

Ten continued, “And we’ve had some trust issues. Partially my fault, I understand, but really, YangYang. It’s a two-way road.”

Sicheng threw his hands in the air in frustration. YangYang hummed his agreement, pointing a finger at Sicheng in the mirror. “Trust is very important in a relationship.”

“Thanks, YangYang. That’s very insightful,” muttered Sicheng, hands scrubbing tiredly over his face.

Hendery’s eyebrows were drawn together in that way that told Sicheng he was thinking hard about something—the boy had absolutely no poker face, Sicheng was sure. They made eye contact briefly, and Hendery seemed to be broken out of his revery, turning back around to face front in his seat. “Is this place close, YangYang?”

“Yep,” the driver answered. “We’re just on the edge of the forest. A few kilometers outside of town, still, so it’s nice and quiet.”

“If the cops come looking—” Hendery blurted, before being interrupted by YangYang.

“It won’t be a problem,” he said cheerfully. The dirt road turned a corner and revealed a small clearing, a house and a large garage situated in that middle. On the garage was a hand-painted sign that said, _WayV Motors._ “We’re pretty good at what we do.”

“And what is that, exactly?” posited Sicheng hesitantly, eying the pieces of drone lying in various stages of disrepair around the property.

YangYang pulled the rig up to the building and cut the engine. He grinned. “We race drones, of course.”

  

* * *

     

Hendery sat between Ten and Sicheng at a kitchen table inside the cramped kitchen adjacent to the house, sipping a mug of hot tea gratefully. He was feeling a lot better already.

“Where were y’all headed?”

Lucas and YangYang had eagerly unloaded the drone into a garage to take a look at any damage, leaving the three of them in the care of a young man, hair sticking up at odd angles and bleary from sleep, but a soft, awkward smile on his face as he greeted them. Xiaojun, he’d called himself.

He appeared to be more graceful about being woken up in the middle of the night than Hendery himself would have been, fixing them drinks and making sure they were comfortable.

Now, he was politely asking them questions about mundane things, sitting cross-legged and barefoot across from them at the table.

“We’re going to Seoul,” Ten responded simply. He wasn’t drinking his tea, simply wrapping his hands around the mug tightly, as if for warmth, and staring into the dark liquid.

“Ah,” Xiaojun nodded, yawning into his hand. “Long ways to go, yet.”

“Yes,” Sicheng said quietly.

There was a loud clattering noise from outside, followed by a curse. Xiaojun gave the trio an apologetic smile, rising smoothly from his chair. “If you don’t mind, I should go see how they’re doing. Those two unattended can be a whole lot of chaos. Excuse me.”

Sicheng spoke up. “Can I go with you? I’d like to make sure she’s okay.”

When the three of them stared at him, Sicheng had the decency to blush a little. “The drone. I meant the drone. She deserves some respect, okay?”

Xiaojun smirked, but didn’t say anything, sheparding Sicheng out the back door, pulling on some rubber boots as he went. He waved at Ten and Hendery, still seated at the table, as he went to shut the door. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

The door slammed shut, leaving the kitchen shrouded in a tense silence. Hendery stared at the clock on the wall ahead of them, not looking at Ten.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I had to do it?” Ten asked after a few moments, making Hendery jump.

Ten was looking over at him, expressionless. Which was weird, because it meant he wasn’t flirting, or trying to make physical contact, or do much of anything. He was just looking, the way one might when having any old conversation, still holding his mug of tea and eye makeup smudged from the long night.

Seeing Ten like this, looking tired and entirely unremarkable in a cluttered kitchen, caused Hendery no small amount of cognitive dissonance; in his head, Ten had always been so powerful, so magnetic in a way that was barely even human. Now, he was just a young man, barely older than Hendery and just as fallible. For the first time, it felt like they were on equal footing. It was the only thing that gave Hendery the courage to say what he did next.

“There’s no excuse for what you did, Ten.”

“Oh, I can tell you’ve been talking to our pilot friend,” Ten laughed, but it wasn’t Ten’s usual high, flirtatious sound, but instead more like a low, exhausted exhalation of air. Ten rubbed at his dark eyes, smudging the makeup even more.

“You used me. I’m not stupid, no matter what you think.” He lifted his chin, trying to feel as confident as he sounded.

“I know you’re not stupid, Hendery,” Ten said tiredly, tracing the grains of the wood in the kitchen table. “But people do stupid things sometimes. When they’re desperate.”

“Are you really blaming me?” Hendery demanded loudly, anger flaring up unexpectedly somewhere deep inside him.

But Ten was shaking his head before Hendery even finished his sentence. “I meant me.”

That made Hendery pause, unsure. His indignation faded as he watched Ten, shoulders slightly slumped, his usually perfect posture compromised. “Why were you desperate?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Ten forced a small smile, glancing up at Hendery. “My point is, I’m sorry. I took advantage of you, and that was wrong of me.”

Ten appeared to be about to say something else, but he hesitated. Suspicious, Hendery asked, “Why are you so sorry now? All of a sudden?”

“I didn’t realize that you didn’t have a good relationship with your father,” Ten answered, eyes catching Hendery’s, face without any traces of humor for once. “I made an assumption about your life, and I shouldn’t have.”       

Hendery could feel his face flush. He didn’t really want to talk about this, but it was out in the open. He swallowed, avoiding Ten’s gaze by taking a big gulp of tea. He felt that old, ugly shame rise in his chest as he said, “My dad hates me. I’m not worth anything to him. I didn’t… I didn’t realize he would care enough about the car to report it to the police.”      

Ten’s face stayed serious and hard to read as always, but something in his eyes shifted to sympathy. The last thing Hendery wanted from Ten was sympathy. He continued, voice harder, “I’ll be fine, I just… can’t go home.”      

Ten nodded, once. “Then we won’t.” There was something about that kind of quiet belief that Hendery found comforting, even if he knew he couldn’t trust Ten. He seemed so sure of himself. There was a long silence as Hendery stared into his tea. He was a little startled when he heard Ten murmur, “I can’t go home, either.”     

Surprised by the small moment of honesty, Hendery waited to see if Ten would elaborate. When he didn’t, curiosity got the best of Hendery, prompting him to ask, “Where’s home for you, Ten?”

Ten didn’t answer. Hendery didn’t push it. Instead, Hendery asked, “What are we going to do if we get caught?”

Ten responded, “The cops aren’t going to send you to jail, Hendery.”

He cocked his head at Ten. “What? Why not?”

Ten glanced over at him, fiddling with his interface, the screen cracked and dimming. “The justice system isn’t out to get people like you, Hendery. Me, though? It’ll swallow me alive if I let it.”

Hendery was still puzzled. “Because you’re a foreigner?”

“No, because I’m not rich,” Ten said bluntly. “And I take my clothes off for money. You come from a different world. You’re the type who always trusted the police, yes?”

Hendery squinted at Ten, unsure if he was being insulted. “You think my life is so easy?”

“No, of course not,” Ten murmured. “It’s just different, is all. For Winwin, too. He’ll get in a lot of trouble.”

Hendery didn’t know what he was going to do if the police found them, if Ten and Sicheng took the blame for his mistake, if his father pressed charges. Stealing a drone was no small penalty in Hong-Kong.

He was scared.

Ten must have noticed the expression on Hendery’s face. He added, a degree more warmly, “I’m just saying. At the very least, you don’t have to worry about prison.”

Hendery sighed. “Knowing my father, prison is the least of my worries.”

Ten studied him. Hendery felt like he was being analyzed, and he didn’t like it. He said, "I know you think you know me. But you don't, Ten." 

There was a pause, before Ten replied, "Yes. I'm starting to get that." 

 

* * *

 

Drone racing was very illegal in China, but Sicheng couldn’t lie--he was intrigued at the prospect.

Their garage was as messy as their kitchen, but Lucas, Xiaojun, and YangYang definitely knew their way around drones. When Xiaojun and Sicheng came in, Lucas and YangYang had the hood popped and were talking excitedly about the modifications that could be made to make full use of the drone’s horsepower. Sicheng had never thought about that; he thought he was lucky just to drive a drone that could go highway speeds in the first place.

“How does this work?” Sicheng asked curiously as Xiaojun started poking around the engine carefully. “The racing?”

Lucas grinned. “Out here, the feds barely even check up on us. We’re the middle of nowhere. Just water and mountains as far as the eye can see.”

YangYang added, “It’s the best place in China for it. Races are organized beneath the table, and everyone interested hears through word of mouth. Usually that means us.”

“You guys are the people to talk to?” Sicheng said, surprised.

“You could say that,” Xiaojun agreed, voice muffled as he talked into the machinery. “We run a legit business. We fix drones, here, but we also make drones raceable. It’s a good way to disseminate information.”

“You seem pretty loose with who you talk to about it,” Sicheng noted. The three men laughed.

“Yeaaah, we’re not too worried,” Lucas responded with mirth in his eyes, winking at YangYang.

“Uh huh,” Sicheng muttered, eyebrow raised, watching Xiaojun write down something in his notebook and nod to himself.

Lucas slung an arm around Sicheng. “You worry too much, buddy. We’re gonna take good care of this beauty, just you wait.”

“What kind of speeds do you think it could get up to?” Sicheng asked.

YangYang smiled that manic smile, clapping his hands together in excitement. “You wanna find out?”

“We’re headed to Seoul,” Sicheng remembered. “We can’t--”

“You can’t cross borders in a stolen drone, dude,” Lucas interrupted. “Let us take care of this one for you, modify it for racing. We’ll hook you up with another one that won’t get you arrested.”

Sicheng paused. “I need to run it by my…” He trailed off. What was the appropriate word for his relationship with Hendery and Ten? “Uh… the other guys.”

Lucas and YangYang both nodded. Sicheng thought carefully. “How do I know I can trust you?”

Xiaojun laughed from his position leaning over the engine of the drone. “You can’t trust either of them, seriously,” he said, voice raised to be heard. YangYang made an indignant noise. “They’re very bad at business. Neither of them have can do math to save their lives. But they’re good at drones. You can trust them with this one.”

Lucas grinned fondly, kicking Xiaojun’s calf lightly. “Aww, this is why we keep you around.”

Sicheng had a lot more questions. Unfortunately, at that moment, Hendery burst into the garage, Ten close behind, both of them looking panicked.

“There’s a cop car outside.”

Damn it. They couldn’t catch a break.

“Fuck, where can we go?” Sicheng asked Lucas, heart racing.

None of the mechanics seemed terribly worried. They were moving with absolutely no urgency, expressions calm, continuing to examine the inside of the drone. Ten loudly said, “Guys?”

“Was the cop car old? Like, kind of rickety-looking? And a weird baby blue color?” YangYang asked.

Hendery looked from one man to another, face scrunched in fear and confusion. “Yes?”

YangYang waved a hand dismissively, then went back to what he was doing, handing Xiaojun various tools.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sicheng demanded. “So, what, you turned us in? Seriously?”

“Oh, no, no,” Lucas said. “That’s not the situation. He’s our friend.”

Ten’s eyes were narrowed. He glanced at Sicheng. “We need to run. Now.”

“We’re not going to get very far without a drone,” hissed Sicheng.

“No, wait,” Xiaojun stood upright, speaking to them placatingly as he wiped his hands on an already-grubby towel. “You have it wrong.”

“Like hell we do,” Sicheng said. “Come on, Hendery, we’re leaving.”

Sicheng put his hand on Hendery’s shoulder. At that moment, the garage door was lifted from the outside, and a young man in a police uniform stood in the open space.

“Hey, what’d you guys want to show me? I would have been here earlier, but I just got done with my shift. Apparently the feds are knocking down doors looking for a stolen drone. I told the boss I’d look here.”

YangYang laughed, apparently finding that hilarious. Sicheng, Hendery, and Ten stood, frozen, as the officer came directly inside, barely even glancing their direction.

“No stolen drones here. No siree,” YangYang said, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

Lucas beamed at the newcomer, giving him a familiar bro-hug. “Guys, this is Kun. Kun, these boys are future racers in the making, I can feel it.”

The officer--Kun--smiled warmly at the three of them. “Nice to meet you. I assume you guys are the ones on the run from the feds?”


	9. break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a pretty icky and explicit mention of past child abuse in this chapter, during the first Hendery-narrated scene. It's very brief, but please use your judgment and stay safe <3

Ten didn’t know if this was a trick, but it sure as hell felt like one.

The three of them were lying on the old couches in the living room of the dark and quiet WayV Motors house. Winwin and Hendery were already out cold, exhausted from the long night, but as tired as Ten was, he couldn’t sleep. It seemed too dangerous.

He listened to the slow, steady sounds of Winwin and Hendery breathing, peaceful and unaware. They both seemed enamored with Lucas and his crew, what they did, but Ten couldn’t bring himself to trust these people. Nobody helped others without a guarantee of getting something in return, and Hendery still hadn’t given them that.

After the cop had arrived, Ten and his companions’ fear of arrest had been set mostly at ease after an extensive discussion of how Kun had come to be a part of this strange circle of crime, and how he allowed them to race in this town with little fear of being caught.

Kun spent a lot of time here, apparently, bringing them news and receiving town gossip and being fed YangYang’s homemade baked goods. They were all friends, somehow--maybe more than that, Ten thought, if the way Kun made heart eyes at Lucas was any indication. Ten was pretty sure that Lucas was oblivious to the attention, however, or maybe just not interested.

It was hard to tell what Lucas really thought of anything, actually, due to his bubbly demeanor, which made Ten more than a little uneasy. It was always the ones that you underestimated who were the biggest threats.

It seemed too convenient, that they would happen meet this rag-tag group of kind-hearted criminals right when they needed to lay low, giving them food and water and a safe place to sleep. Obviously, they had their own motivation—these guys wanted the fancy drone—but still. People never did anything with such straight-forward honesty. There was always a catch.

Hendery rolled over, kicking Ten in his sleep. Ten tried not to think of the last time he had shared such close sleeping quarters platonically—it had been second-nature for so long, the comforting presence of trusted others as he slept, that it surprised Ten a little when he realized he had gotten so accustomed to sleeping alone. He felt a pang in his chest.

That was in another life. It didn’t benefit him to dwell on it now.

He guessed it was just the knowledge of where they were going, the urgency he felt, the nerves at possibly seeing the people he’d left behind. He was terrified they wouldn’t get there in time, especially with this delay. He’d been stupid to force Hendery’s hand like this, taking the drone without his parents’ consent; he should have figured out a way to acquire transportation legally. Now, Ten also had to worry about the police, even more than he’d had to before. He wasn’t on the drone’s manifest they’d taken at the check-points, but all they would have to do was look him up to find sufficient reason to arrest him.

He thought about Hendery and the expression he’d worn earlier, talking about his father. Ten had known that expression, far too well. It was an expression worn by someone who’d been conditioned to expect cruelty.

It was probably why Hendery seemed to cling to any scrap of affection that Ten and Winwin offered to him. Ten found himself extremely uncomfortable in this realization. It suddenly felt much more exploitative than Ten had ever intended.

He gave in and reached down into his bag, kept on him at all times. His interface lit up, dim and cracked as always, and he opened his messages. No new ones, but he hadn’t received anything for a while, and it was the middle of the night, so that wasn’t too much of a surprise.

Communicating in this way was contraband on the receiving end of the messages, so they had to be careful. Still, he stared at the last communications he’d received, written in scrambled English to keep prying eyes from being able to read it. When decoded, the message said, _Something’s wrong. Haechan hasn’t been back. It’s been days._

Ten had responded, in the same made-up language, _you think they’re hurting him?_

_They won’t tell us anything. They have us on lockdown._

And then: _it_ _feels just like last time._

Ten knew all too well what had happened last time. And if it was happening again, he had to stop it before it was too late. Unlike them, he didn’t have anything left to lose.

He’d sent back, _are you okay?_

And he hadn’t heard anything back.

He closed his eyes, the image of the words on the screen still imprinted on the inside of his eyelids. Guilt and fear warred within him. He had a responsibility to go back. He had been a coward, before, running away like he had. Leaving the others in a situation that they couldn’t escape.

Ten had to sleep while he had the opportunity. He knew he would need it; he just couldn’t turn his brain off.        

He stared at the strange shapes the outlines of the furniture made in the dark, somehow menacing even in their innocuity. He idly daydreamed about creeping silently out of this house, catching a ride with some trucker, leaving all of this behind. He knew he wouldn't, but it would be so easy. 

He shut his eyes and forced himself to sleep. 

 

* * *

 

“What do you think, Hendery?”          

Oh God, was this really Hendery’s decision? He hated having to make decisions, especially when it came to the fate of his father’s stolen hover-car. He considered, taking a bite of his eggs and chewing slowly in order to give himself more time to think.           

The seven of them—including Officer-Man Kun, because apparently he slept here sometimes, for some reason—all ate breakfast together, bright and early the following morning. YangYang and Xiaojun had made eggs and bacon, and though he’d been served by gourmet chefs more times than he could count, it was the best food Hendery could have asked for in this current moment in his life. As they’d all woken up, helped along by coffee and highly caffeinated tea, the discussion had turned to more serious topics than breakfast foods, as they negotiated the matter of the drone.           

Sicheng seemed all for the idea of leaving Hendery’s family drone here, exchanging it for another one, and traveling to Seoul in the rental while the boys here outfitted the drone for racing. Hendery wasn’t sure; he supposed he didn’t really have any reason to give the drone back to his father, after it having been reported stolen, but it still felt like his father’s wrath could come raining down on him at any moment, no matter what he did.           

Ten didn’t seem to have an opinion. He ate his breakfast in silence, his only contribution being a quiet, “Whatever’s fastest.”           

When Hendery explained the situation, the WayV boys all seemed to hold the ardent belief that their plan would be “sticking it to the man.” A great way to say a metaphorical _fuck you_ in the spiritual direction of his dad. But they really wanted the drone, so Hendery wasn’t sure they were the most objective party here.    

Kun gave YangYang a disapproving look when the youngest member of the group added, “And the best part is, you don’t even have to come back for it if you don’t want to! We’ll take it out of your hands.”           

“Except you, mister,” Lucas pointed a finger at Sicheng. “Have to come back no matter what and show us those mad pilot skills.”         

Sicheng suppressed a smile. Again, not the most objective party.           

How was Hendery supposed to know what to do? He’d never been in a situation even close to this before. His parents had always made every major life choice for him; he’d had very little choice in the matter of his education, or his future career. It was a well-worn path that he’d been placed on, with no opportunities for deviation. Now, his future stretched before him, endless choices available and no marked path whatsoever, and he didn’t even have a map.           

Hendery’s indecision must have shown on his face, because Ten finally spoke amongst the excited chatter of the others, quietly enough that only Hendery could hear him over the noise of the kitchen. “Hendery, is there any universe where you go back home after this?          

Hendery thought about that. Cold dread filled his entire being as he imagined it, what would happen. He remembered a time when he was fifteen; he hadn’t called, because his mother would have been three sleeping pills deep and dead to the world by then anyway, and he had stayed out too late with his friends, stumbling home in the middle of the night blackout drunk.

By some unhappy circumstance, his father had also come home late, and realized that Hendery wasn’t there. He didn’t want to think about what had happened next.           

He remembered waking up the next morning in a bathtub full of freezing ice-water, his fingers blue and his entire body screaming in pain at the cold. He remembered being told in an infuriatingly rational tone that this was a world in which the punishment fit the crime. If he wasn’t going to act like a man deserving of his title, then he wouldn’t be treated like one.           

“No,” Hendery answered softly, eyes locking with Ten’s. “There isn’t.”           

Ten nodded once in understanding. “Then leave the drone. You aren’t going to need it in Seoul.”           

Hendery took a deep breath. “Okay.” He raised his voice to get the attention of the others. “Yeah, let’s go with your plan.”           

The kitchen was filled with cheers. Sicheng smiled at Hendery and patted him on the back.

He looked at Ten briefly. Ten had gone back to staring at his breakfast.           

Had Ten really just given him good advice?

 

 

* * *

 

 

The three of them were left alone as the employees of WayV motors started making sure they had a working drone for them to take. Ten, Hendery, and Sicheng were outside on the porch, waiting as the mechanics worked on an unassuming old car in the open garage across the yard.

Ten pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit up, causing Sicheng to make a noise of disgust and say, “Seriously?”          

Ten just raised a defiant eyebrow at Sicheng and took a drag, leaning slightly closer to Sicheng to exhale. Sicheng sighed and scooted his plastic chair closer to Hendery. “Real classy, Ten.”           

Ten didn’t answer, just rolled his eyes and kept smoking in silence.

Hendery had been putting it off, but now seemed like as good an opportunity as any for him to say, “Sicheng? You know I can’t pay you the other half of the money.”           

Sicheng sighed. “I know, kid.”           

“Unless for some reason my parents forgot to freeze my accounts--”          

“Either way, it’ll expose our location,” Ten interrupted. “You can’t use any of your cards.”          

“Lucky we have five grand in cash laying around, then,” Sicheng said lowly, smiling self-deprecatingly.           

“Oh, Sicheng, you don’t have to—” Hendery tried, shaking his head.          

Sicheng shrugged. “I’m not doing anything else with it. We’ve got to get to Seoul somehow.”           

Hendery was touched. “You’ve already done so much, though. You—you would do that for us?”           

“You, not him,” Sicheng said gruffly, gesturing at Ten. Ten just grinned softly, not appearing to be offended in the slightest. “You’re a good kid, Hendery.”

“Are you saying I’m _not_ a good kid? I’m so hurt.” Ten put a hand to his heart, gasping dramatically. 

Sicheng rolled his eyes. “Why did we bring him again?”           

“He didn’t really give us a choice,” Hendery observed mildly, watching the wind ripple through the trees. He looked over at Ten. “Speaking of which, Ten, I think if this is going to work, from here on out, we all need to be honest with each other.”           

“I second that,” Sicheng added. “I still have the power to leave you on the side of the road somewhere when we get going.”           

“I’d like to see you try.”           

Hendery put a hand on Sicheng’s arm in warning. “Please. Just tell us something that’ll make you seem less like a cartoon villain. Without lying.”           

Ten pursed his lips, looking from one to another. “That’s a lot to ask.”           

“Have we not earned your trust at this point?” Hendery demanded. “After everything you’ve done, we still haven’t dropped you or turned you in. What does that say?”          

“It says that you’re both suckers for a pretty face,” Ten quipped, smiling charmingly. Sicheng huffed and crossed his arms.           

Hendery raised his eyebrow at Ten. “I deserve something, Ten. If you’re really sorry for what you did, you’ll give me something. We’re all criminals now, I guess. We can help each other if we just have more information.”          

There was a long silence as Ten considered that, face unchanging. Hendery watched him, finally adding softly, “I don’t think this is you, Ten. Not really.”           

Sicheng made a noise of disbelief and muttered something to himself that Hendery didn’t catch.

Apparently, Ten did, because he sucked in a sharp breath of irritation, then glanced around as if to make sure that nobody was listening in. “Ugh. Fine. I’m not a citizen. I couldn’t be on the crew manifest because I’m not a legal resident in China. Okay? Happy?”           

Hendery nodded, taken aback but trying not to show it. “Yes. Thank you, Ten.”           

Sicheng leveled him an unimpressed look. “Baby steps, I guess.”           

Hendery shoved an elbow in his ribs to shut him up. “Is that why you needed it to be my drone, then?”           

Ten sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes closed and lit cigarette uncomfortably close to his face, in Hendery’s opinion. “It’s almost impossible to get in and out of Hong-Kong without a drone that’s registered to a Chinese citizen.”          

“How’d you get in, then?”         

Ten smiled at Sicheng’s skeptical tone. “It took some ingenuity.”           

“Okay, so… you seduced some poor sap?”         

“Yep.”          

“Great. Glad we had that talk. I trust you so much more now.”

“Winwin, you’re kind of judgmental, did you know that?” 

“At least I’m not destroying my lungs for no reason.”

“Not for no reason, darling! We all have our vices. I think yours is being a negative Nancy.”          

Hendery let them bicker, trying to remember why he was even doing this. He wanted to get to Seoul, right? He wanted to be a singer. It was the only thing he knew that he wanted, the fantasy that had gotten him through years of feeling trapped and alone in his own life. But then he thought about Sicheng, and how he lit up when he was piloting a speeding a drone.

Had Hendery ever been that passionate about anything? He didn’t think so. He hadn’t really known anyone could be that excited about something as an adult. And when he thought about the fact that Ten couldn’t even get out of the country without resorting to the means he did, his desires seemed… small. Kind of trivial. Kind of childish.           

But he didn’t have another plan. And as weird as this situation was, he’d gotten used to the idea of the three of them, going to Seoul together. At least then, he’d have some direction in what to do next.

And he wouldn’t be alone.

 

* * *

 

Xiaojun observed the trio carefully from his perch on the hood of the old rig, passing tools back and forth between Lucas and YangYang and commenting every now and then with suggestions as they tried to make an old drone flyable. The open air of the garage felt good on his face; it was a sunny, beautiful morning in the mountains of Jiangxi.

And honestly, Xiaojun was starting to feel a little guilty about this whole thing. Their guests were too far away to hear them, so he said, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”           

“They won’t know the difference,” Lucas said. “Seriously.”           

“The pilot seems like he knows a bit about this stuff,” Xiaojun observed mildly.           

Lucas waved that piece of information away. “He knows what the stupid Hong-Kong Academy has told him. They don’t know shit about drones over there. They just want mindless taxi drivers, bro. So people like us don’t drive away with their expensive drones.”           

YangYang raised his wrench in the air like he was making a toast. “Hear, hear.”           

“Guys, I agree with Xiaojun,” piped up Kun. “I have kind of a bad feeling about this.”           

“You always have a bad feeling about my ideas,” grumbled Lucas. Xiaojun exchanged looks with YangYang, who was rolling his eyes and making inappropriate gestures in the direction of their friends. They had a private bet going on how long Kun and Lucas would bicker like an old married couple before they finally gave in and just slept together already.          

Kun protested, “But they seem like good guys. Why screw them over?”           

Lucas gestured at the shop around them, in various stages of disrepair. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re gonna be in a lot of trouble if we don’t get some revenue flowing through this fucking place. Racing is the only thing that’s making us money right now.”           

“Yeah,” Xiaojun said. “But if we chase away all the decent racers with shitty business practices, it’s just gonna be us and the real low-lifes. Nobody’s gonna have money, then.”           

“Since when are w _e_ not the real low-lifes?” YangYang asked with a cackle.

Xiaojun sighed. He had a point. He watched as the youngest one of the strangers—Hendery—threw his head back in laughter, slapping the pilot on the leg. They didn’t seem like half-bad people, was the thing. Except for maybe Ten, they seemed far too honest for these parts.

“Fine,” he said. Kun shook his head disapprovingly. “But we need to at least make sure they can make it safely to Beijing, okay? I don’t want this piece of junk falling apart over the Sea of China.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re not trying to kill them,” YangYang answered. “Just trying to get rid of our worst drone. In exchange for the best drone we’ve ever gotten our hands on. Come on, this is great for us.”

“I know,” Xiaojun said slowly. “It just feels like we’re taking advantage of them, is all.”

“As your friendly neighborhood policeman,” Kun began, but he was cut off by groans and one yell of “Mom!” by YangYang. Kun put his hands up in surrender. “You know, sometimes I feel very unappreciated around here.”

“You didn’t have to become a cop, buddy,” Lucas quipped back, without looking up from what he was doing.

Kun sighed and took a sip of coffee. Xiaojun heard him mutter under his breath, “Someone needed to make sure you didn’t end up in prison.”

Xiaojun watched as, across the yard, the pilot plucked an unlit cigarette from Ten’s mouth and tossed it away, prompting a murderous glare from Ten. What a weird relationship, he thought. It made Xiaojun very grateful for friends that didn’t want to murder him. He murmured absently, “We love you, Kun.”

Kun smiled fondly. “Xiaojun, this is why you’re my favorite child.”

YangYang’s indignant shout of “Hey!” could definitely be heard over on the porch.


	10. speed

“Alright, guys, you’re all set,” Lucas said, slapping the hood of the old drone with a grin.

Sicheng raised an eyebrow. “You sure this is safe? It’s a bit of a downgrade, I gotta be honest.”

“This old girl might not be the prettiest,” Lucas acknowledged with a shrug. “But she’ll get ya where you need to go.”

Ten stood a little ways back from the drone with Hendery and Xiaojun. He gave the machine a bored once-over. “It’s low-profile, at least.”

Xiaojun smiled. “Exactly.”

YangYang came bounding into the garage from the direction of the house. He carried with him a small radio, which was playing something loud and bass-heavy--not Sicheng’s cup of tea, certainly. “Your boys are on the radio, Xiaojun.”

Xiaojun went pink, scoffing at YangYang. “They’re not my boys. Jesus, YangYang.”

“Okay, just because you love them and want to marry them doesn’t make them your boys. Got it.” YangYang exchanged a mischievious look with Lucas, before turning up the music.

Sicheng was almost too focused on the exchange between the friends to notice Ten, who was suddenly pale, staring in horror at the radio. Sicheng was startled by Ten’s lack of a guard, the emotion so plain on his face as he pressed his lips together like he was about to be sick. Sicheng barely heard him when he ground out, “YangYang, what is this?”

“What?” YangYang was still grinning as he messed with Xiaojun’s hair teasingly. He laughed as he said, “Oh, I know it’s not technically legal to import Korean music here but we have our ways to get the signal, since Xiaojun here can’t live without his men and their beautiful voices.”

“Oh my God,” Xiaojun protested, going after YangYang and his radio. “I hate you!”

But Sicheng was looking at Ten as Xiaojun chased YangYang around the garage, narrowly avoiding some precariously placed acetylene torches. Hendery had put on hand on his arm, perhaps in an attempt to steady him, as he was swaying a little on his feet, closing his eyes hard. Hendery sent Sicheng a worried look, and Sicheng strode over purposefully, stopping directly in front of his companions. “Ten?”

Ten’s eyes snapped open, and, while he still looked a little green around the gills, he seemed to have been broken of whatever spell he’d been under. His eyes met Sicheng’s, then seemed to realize that both Sicheng and Hendery were staring at him in concern. Within a few seconds, he’d controlled his expression to his normal indifference. “I’m fine. Sorry.”

On the other end of the garage, Xiaojun was insisting, “I don’t support the industry, okay? I just appreciate all of their hard work.”

YangYang cackled as he leaped up on a chair to hold the radio out of Xiaojun’s reach. “Just keep telling yourself that, buddy.”

Lucas sighed and popped the hood of the old drone one more time. Hendery still had a hand on Ten’s arm, which Ten promptly shrugged off. Sicheng pretended not to see the expression of hurt that swept Hendery’s face; that kid was too caring for his own good.

Not seeming to notice Ten’s weird reaction, Lucas continued, “Sorry about them. They’re just kiddos, as Kun likes to say.” He paused. “To be fair, Kun has to make excuses for their behavior a lot.”

Ten seemed relieved at the distraction, blinking. “Are you blood-related?”

Lucas laughed, checking the oil level of the engine. “No, no. Just found each other through the course of life. I mean, Kun and I have been through a lot together, so we’re basically family. He’s saved my life more than once.”

“You’ve known each other for a long time?” Hendery asked, taking a not-so-subtle step away from Ten and crossing his arms.

“Yeah, hell, like…” Lucas scrunched up his face thinking. “Nearly a decade, I think.”

Sicheng nodded, still thinking about Ten and his bizarre behavior. Maybe he was sick, he thought. Or maybe he really was on drugs. “Long time.”

Panting, Xiaojun returned with the radio in hand, although Sicheng noted that he hadn’t turned it off. YangYang was close behind, still laughing silently to himself as he sipped a drink he had pulled from the cooler. Lucas said fondly, “Yeah, he’s like a brother to me.”

YangYang snorted his soda and Xiaojun patted him on the back hard, shaking his head. Sicheng did not want to know what was going on there. YangYang finally calmed down, breathing normalizing, and muttered, “The nerve.”

Lucas continued as though nothing had happened. “And Kun makes sure we don’t get into too much trouble. We’re lucky to have him, or else we would’ve been busted years ago, when we first started this thing.”

“Oh,” Hendery answered, unsure as he looked from YangYang to Lucas. “That’s... nice.”

“Yeah,” Lucas hummed, grinning. “Call us up if you need to get out of any legal scrapes, okay? I don’t know how much sway Kun has outside of this town, but…” He shrugged with a laugh.

“We might need to take you up on that,” Sicheng muttered, glancing at Ten and Hendery.

Ten didn’t answer, still staring blankly at the floor. After a moment he looked up and said, “We ought to get going.”

Xiaojun nodded, coming to stand beside Lucas. He made a sweeping gesture at the drone. “Well, it’s ready.”

 

* * *

 

 

Sicheng felt a pit of dread in his stomach as the drone lurched to life sluggishly. Truthfully, this thing was on its last legs, but he supposed it was still better than a stolen drone. And the WayV boys claimed that it could make it to Seoul…

This drone was smaller, just a bench in the front for the three of them and some storage space in the back, in the old style. It certainly smelled like it had been used for many a road trip. Sicheng was sure that in such close proximity the three of them would kill each other, but hopefully the trip wouldn’t take too long.

The WayV boys were standing in the yard, waving goodbye with wide smiles. Hendery waved at YangYang until they were above the trees and out of sight, with promises to return. “So,” Hendery asked. “What the hell was that about, Ten?”

“What was what about?” Ten answered innocently.

Hendery rolled his eyes, looking at Sicheng for backup. Sicheng didn’t really want to have this conversation, so he didn’t provide any help. Hendery continued, “In the garage. You freaked out.”

Sicheng sighed as he got the hover-car up to cruising altitude, careful to keep the drone just below the speed limit as to not attract unnecessary attention. They were going to take the highways instead of the interstate, as to hopefully avoid the cops, who couldn’t be bothered to fly those sharp mountain road turns, for the most part. It would be slower, but worth it.

Ten was quipping, “Maybe I’m pregnant? I don’t know, Hendery. I think I’m probably just coming down with something.”

Hendery scoffed. “Be serious. That wasn’t what it was! Why can’t you just tell us the truth?”

Ten smiled darkly. “Sometimes the truth isn’t what people want to hear, darling.”

Sicheng was sure that Hendery would have stormed away if there was anywhere to go, getting progressively more frustrated with the conversation even as Ten remained perfectly calm, at least on the surface. As it was, they were trapped within arm’s reach of each other, and Sicheng was a little concerned that it would end in someone being strangled.

Hendery made an angry noise and crossed his arms. “You know, it makes sense that you’re a stripper. It’s the only job a liar can get.”

Okay, that was uncalled for. Sicheng said in warning, “Hendery.”

But Hendery was apparently at the end of his fuse and not interested in being nice, for once. “You lie to people everyday and nobody even cares because that's what they're paying you for!”

“Hendery, no,” Sicheng interrupted sharply.

Hendery looked at him in surprise. So did Ten, who had been taking the insults with a mild smile. “What?”

“I’m all for holding Ten accountable,” Sicheng said, uncomfortable. “But that’s not...” He trailed off, trying to find the right words.

Ten laughed bitterly. “You don’t need to defend my honor, Winwin. I can do that myself.” He narrowed his eyes at Hendery. “So you think you’re better than me because of my job? How very boring.”

Hendery’s brow furrowed. Sicheng could tell he genuinely didn’t understand what he had done wrong, and he was looking at Sicheng for answers, the kid’s privilege making a rare appearance. Sicheng tried, gently, “Hendery, everyone does what they have to do. Money is money. You can’t use that against him.”

Hendery pursed his lips. Ten added, twisting his cartilage piercing absently, “I’m also fucking good at it. I don’t remember you complaining about the morality of my profession when you were with your friends at the club.”

Hendery was quiet, apparently satisfactorily rebuked. A few moments later, he muttered, “Sorry.”

Sicheng couldn’t blame the kid too much; after all, he was sure that where he’d come from, that kind of work was considered lowly and demeaning as a rule. Where both Ten and Sicheng came from, however, it could be the difference between starvation and survival, and you didn’t blame someone for making money, as long as they weren’t hurting anyone. He didn’t like Ten, and he sure as hell didn’t trust Ten, but that didn’t mean he would let Hendery go on being an entitled brat.

Ten nodded in acceptance, seemingly unbothered. He didn’t seem bothered by much, Ten; he was annoyingly unflappable, which was why it had been so strange and unnerving to see him shaken earlier, in the garage.

Sicheng wondered, not for the first time, about what it would be like to be inside Ten’s brain. He shook his head, focusing on the road. It would be a long day.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The sun was high in the sky, the air-conditioning in the cab of the drone barely functional. They were all uncomfortably hot, skin getting sticky as the sun streamed in through the windows. But they hadn’t been pulled over, which was the goal. And a fact that Ten kept having to remind himself of.

They were making good time now, even though they had to avoid the interstate. It was barely noon and they were already a good chunk of the way to Beijing, where they planned to land and re-fuel.

After Beijing, it was only a handful of minutes to Seoul by air. 

Something fluttered in his stomach that wasn’t nervousness or fear or dread, for once; it was something he hadn’t felt in a long while, something deep within him that he’d suppressed.

He was returning home. Even if it wasn’t where he’d been born, it was where he’d been happy, once. Through hardship after hardship, it was the place where he had made almost all of his positive memories. Because it was with people he had loved. People he still loved.

People he’d left behind to suffer.

Sicheng interrupted his panic spiral to say matter-of-factly, “This drone is a piece of shit.”

Ten snorted. “You just noticed that, huh?”

"No, but the clutch keeps sticking and I’m a little afraid I’m gonna drop the transmission. So I guess… sorry, in advance, if I kill us all?”

Ten smiled in spite of himself, turning away. Sicheng was funny, in that dry, startling way of his. “That is incredibly reassuring. I’ll remember that when we’re dead in a ditch.”

“You’re welcome,” Sicheng said without missing a beat, inclining his head.

Hendery stared out the window in stony silence, incredibly uninterested in talking to either of them, apparently. Ten studied Sicheng, his slender hands wrapped around the steering wheel, his posture easy and natural in his pilot’s seat. He supposed that conversation was helping to pass to time better than his panic was, so he asked, “What’s your story, Top Gun? Surely you don’t have a girl or guy back home, or you wouldn’t be here with us right now risking your livelihood to be a fugitive.”

Sicheng grimaced. “No, nobody back home.”

Ten watched him as his grip tightened slightly on the wheel. “I find that hard to believe, for some reason. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re kind of a catch.”

He wasn’t flirting, not really. Just passing the time. At least that was what he told himself as he delighted in the way the slender column of Sicheng’s neck flushed a lovely pink. “I did have someone, once. But it didn’t work out.”

Ten cocked his head. “Why not?”

Sicheng glanced over. “Why are you so interested?”

Ten grinned coyly. “Might as well get to know each other, right? We’re going to be in this car for the next however many hours.”

Sicheng was silent for a long moment. Ten figured that he was done talking, and that he would have to find another way to entertain himself, but was surprised when Sicheng said, “I chose the Academy over him. He… he was going home, eventually, and I knew… that it wouldn’t last forever, no matter what I did. And I wasn’t ready for forever anyway. So yeah. I became a pilot.”

Ten nodded somberly. “Cold, man. Real cold.”

Sicheng rolled his eyes, prepared to retort, but Ten interrupted with, “I’m kidding. I--I’ve been on that end of things, too. Leaving someone behind like that. Sometimes it’s what you gotta do.”

“Yeah,” Sicheng agreed quietly.

“Is he still around here somewhere? We could wave at him on our way past. Or flip him off, depending on how you two left things,” Ten joked.

Sicheng laughed lightly, startling Ten again. It was a pretty sound, he decided. “He’s in Osaka, so no, I think that would require a bit of a detour.”

The pilot seemed to remember who he was talking to, smile sliding off his face as he glanced over. “Have you ever been to Japan, Ten?”

Ten had. Once. He didn’t remember much other than a deep sense of exhaustion and a stabbing pain in his knee as he danced, dark spots in his vision obscuring the colorful flashing lights. A strong arm around him as he’d been helped off stage, reassuring words murmured in his ear like a calming salve. “Me? No, never.”

“Me neither,” Sicheng said, watching Ten out of the corner of his eye. Ten looked away. Sicheng was always watching, calculating. Ten didn’t like it. Or maybe he did. Hard to tell, at this point, after years of having no friends and no lovers, his clients and co-workers at the club being his only human contact.

“You’re not a pilot for no reason, darling,” Ten said, trying to ignore the phantom pain shooting through his leg. “When all of this is over, you fly yourself to Japan. Just for sightseeing.”

Sicheng smiled, a little sadly. “Maybe I will. Probably can’t go back to Hong-Kong.”

Ten knew it was an ugly truth that the vast majority of pilots would never own a drone themselves. That was a luxury reserved for the wealthy, in Hong-Kong. Pilots would never get to experience that kind of complete freedom. It was oxymoronic, but it was true.

There was something in Sicheng’s quiet frustration that Ten saw himself in. It was that quiet rebellion in Sicheng, his complete lack of respect for the authorities of Hong-Kong or any other place in China, for that matter. That was uncommon, even for pilots. There was something about the academy that brain-washed them into submission when it came to the state being right, despite the fact that the system was undeniably broken.

But not Sicheng.

Sicheng, who was currently breaking about a dozen laws in order to help some broken rich kid realize his dreams. Who was harboring an illegal alien--and a stripper, to boot. Sicheng, who had fire in his eyes when he first got behind the wheel of Hendery’s drone, a drone that he would never be able to afford himself, and who had the same fire when he was told about an illegal drone racing ring in the backwoods of China.

“What are you really here for, Sicheng?” The syllables of the pilot’s real name felt strange and unnatural in Ten’s mouth, so accustomed to the more casual _Winwin._ He felt Hendery tense beside him, even as he pretended not to be listening. “Why are you doing this? Now that there’s no money. There’s nothing in this for you.”

Sicheng didn’t move, taking the car smoothly around a curve, through a low-hanging cloud expertly. “There’s nothing back there for me, either.”

“So you were just bored? An easy problem to fix, honey.”

Sicheng’s eyes met Ten’s for an instant. “Hong-Kong was fucking me up. I wanted to breathe some clean air for once.”

Ten understood better than he wanted to. He opened his mouth to say something witty that would make both of his traveling companions roll their eyes or scoot away from him or berate him for being callous. Then he closed it again. There wasn’t any point.

Hendery said suddenly, “There’s someone behind us.”

Sicheng glanced in his rearview mirrors and swore, evidently able to see something that Ten wasn’t, situated between the others. He checked his radar, and indeed, there was a car quickly gaining on them.

Sicheng seemed to make a decision independently as he glanced at the two of them, and as he took them around another sharp curve in the mountain, he accelerated rapidly. Ten felt his heartrate increase as they built speed, Sicheng navigating them around the sharp turns with smooth proficiency, putting that Academy drill training to good use.

Hendery was still looking behind them, craning his neck to stare out the window. “Sicheng, can you go any faster?”

Sicheng let out a breathless huff of laughter. “Hell yeah, I can.”

They were going so fast now that the trees outside were just blurry patches of green. Ten’s stomach jolted every time they took a turn faster than felt in any way safe, but his adrenaline was pumping now, giddy off of Sicheng’s dare-devilish grin.

The drone was still coming up behind them, and Sicheng was still gaining speed, going as fast as physically possible if they wanted to make it around the sharp corners of the mountain road without smashing into the side of a hilltop. Ten demanded, “How are they still gaining on us?”

Sicheng made a noise of frustration, posture tense and thigh pressed up against Ten’s as he gripped the steering wheel with laser focus, one wrong move liable to kill them all.

It was as thrilling as it was terrifying, and Ten felt Hendery, on his other side, take Ten’s hand and hold onto it tightly.

The other drone was right next to them now, the tinted windows of the baby-blue cop car obscuring the driver as Sicheng raced like his life depended on it.

Then, a transmission request dinged on the dash, the sound startling all of them. Ten’s breath caught, and he reached up to let it patch through.

A familiar voice crackled through the cabin of the drone through its shitty speakers. “As fun as this is, guys, that drone you’re in is not gonna survive long as this speed. Trust me, I would know. Can you slow down?”

The three of them were quiet as they registered the information. Ten finally said, “Xiaojun? What the fuck?”

As if on cue, a horrible, low growl started emitting from the drone’s engine, kind of like a wrench stuck in a lawnmower. Sicheng eyed the drone nervously as he decelerated as quickly as he could without sending them all flying through the windshield. Hendery’s eyes widened at the sound, sniffing as a smokey-sweet scent filled the cab. Ten didn’t know a lot about drones, but he knew that wasn’t a good sign.

Hendery let go of his hand, and Ten pretended not to notice.

Sicheng swore as the drone jolted, engine still making that horrible noise. Luckily, they weren’t terribly far from the ground; he guided the drone to a stuttering stop on a flattish patch of grass.

“Out, out,” Sicheng ordered them, shooing them out of the machine. He felt shaky with the residual adrenaline, legs wobbling as he climbed onto solid ground.

He and Hendery watched as Sicheng popped open the hood of the drone and was enveloped in a cloud of black smoke. As Sicheng coughed, Ten muttered, “I knew those mechanics were no good.”

Hendery sighed, “We’re never getting to Seoul.”

Ten felt his stomach sink; he knew Hendery was right, but he couldn’t let himself be defeated by a fucking drone.

He strode over to stand next to Sicheng, acting more confident than felt. Sicheng was staring into the smoking engine in despair. Ten asked, “You think you can fix it?”

Sicheng gave him a look. “I’m a goddamn pilot. What do you think?”

“That’s the spirit!” Ten said enthusiastically as Sicheng shook his head.

“I can’t fix it,” Sicheng answered flatly. “Unless Hendery has a background in drone mechanics, I think we’re screwed.”

Hendery scratched his head thoughtfully. “There must be something we can do.”

“Fuck, look,” Ten said, grabbing Sicheng to get his attention. Sicheng made a face, and Ten pointed at the sky.

The old, baby-blue cop car was descending to the ground gracefully. As the three of them squinted at the familiar sight, a dark window rolled down, and Xiaojun was poking his head out on the passenger side and waving. As soon as the drone touched down and powered off, Xiaojun was out of the car, toolbox in hand. Kun followed a few seconds later, emerging from the driver's side and stretching with a yawn. As if he hadn't just conducted a high-speed drone chase through the mountains of China. 

Xiaojun wrinkled his nose at the sight of the smoking drone. “Yikes. But, on the bright side...” Xiaojun pointed a finger at Sicheng. "Why the hell didn't you tell us you could race a drone like that?"   

 


	11. pause

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the deviation in my normal pace, I've been traveling and I haven't had internet lol. Also I apologize if anyone got a mistaken update email earlier, I accidentally posted an un-formatted version of this chapter and had to delete it bc I'm a dumbass

Hendery sat cross-legged on the ground next to Ten, watching the proceedings now that they were sure that Sicheng wasn’t about to start throwing punches. He had calmed down a little, at least, and now was pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as Xiaojun and Kun tried to talk to him.

“Lucas and Yangyang are on their way with some more equipment,” Xiaojun was saying, putting down his interface as he finished his conversation. “We’re probably gonna have to wait for them to get here.”

Sicheng’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “You gave us a defective drone.” 

“Not defective,” Xiaojun said indignantly. “Just old and unreliable. That’s why we came after you. We felt really bad, and we were worried you weren’t gonna make it.”   

Sicheng’s eyes were narrowed. “Then why did you give us that piece of shit in the first place?”

Kun smiled apologetically as he made his way over. “My friends need some persuading to do the right thing sometimes. Sorry about that.”

“So, what, you race drones, too?” Ten asked, unimpressed. He had been picking at the grass, uncharacteristically quiet, for the past few minutes.   

Kun shrugged. “Do you think I could get away with hanging out with these guys if I didn’t?”       

“Fucking idiot pilots,” Ten muttered. The birds chirped cheerfully in the trees.  

Xiaojun held his hand out for a high-five. “Winwin, you gotta come back and race with us. Seriously. That was awesome. I didn’t even know that this drone could go that fast.”       

Sicheng left Xiaojun hanging, crossing his arms. “You could’ve sent me a message or something before I blew out the engine on this thing.”       

“Ah,” Kun answered kindly. “It would have happened anyway. And it was kind of fun. I don’t often get to do stuff like that anymore.”       

Sicheng shook his head, visibly irritated as he paced around the drone.       

Hendery suddenly wondered why Sicheng was so agitated about the stop, apart from the obvious annoyance at the WayV boys for their less-than-honest behavior. As far as he knew, Sicheng didn’t have any time constraints, the way Ten seemed to. As far as he knew.   

For the first time, he wondered if there was anything that Sicheng wasn’t telling them.       

“Look, man,” appeased Xiaojun. “Relax. We’re going to make sure you get to Seoul if we have to drive y’all there ourselves. I promise. I’ll make this right.”       

Xiaojun seemed honest to Hendery, with his dark eyebrows drawn together and earnest expression. But Hendery hadn’t seen any sign of duplicity before, so who knew?       

Kun, Xiaojun, and Sicheng all gathered around the engine of the drone, continuing to talk, their focus shifting completely to the well-being of the car. Hendery wished he could contribute in some way, but he didn’t have the faintest idea how a drone even worked. He was going to school for business, after all.       

Next to him, Ten tore a piece of grass apart violently. His fingers were getting stained green. Hendery said quietly, “Ten?”      

Without looking up, Ten made a small noise of, “Hmm?”       

Hendery hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry about what I said to you earlier. About your job. I… I guess I’ve never really thought about it.”      

Ten kept picking at the grass, clearly not entirely mentally present for the conversation. “It’s alright, Hendery. I did drug you less than twenty-four hours ago, so say what you want.”     

Hendery bit his lip. “Yeah, but it was still wrong of me.”     

A small smile slid across Ten’s lips. “I don’t imagine you’ve spent a great deal of time around people like me. Or people like Winwin, for that matter.”     

“No,” Hendery admitted. “I--you would be the first.”      

“And how do I measure up against your private school buddies?” Ten asked tiredly, seeming indifferent to the answer.       

Hendery didn’t like that Ten suddenly seemed so resigned to his own fate. He didn’t seem to think a lot of himself, no matter his confident exterior. Hendery frowned. “I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”    

Ten raised an eyebrow, at that. “You haven’t met a lot of people, Hendery.”     

Hendery conceded that with a nod. “No, but… whatever it is you’re doing, why ever you’re trying so hard to get to Seoul, you’re sacrificing a lot for it.”       

A shadow passed over Ten’s face. He stared at the green stains on his fingers as he responded, “No. I’m righting a wrong.” Ten’s eyes were far away, and Hendery wasn’t sure that Ten was even talking to him when he added, “This was freedom I never should have had in the first place.”      

And there was that word: freedom. It was the one privilege that Hendery had never had before now, and here Ten was, ready to give his up, for some unknown reason. Sicheng, too: both of these men could be doing whatever they wanted, right now, and they were on this quest with him, risking arrest and bodily harm. It was baffling.

Hendery wished that he possessed the kind of perspective that Sicheng did, that Ten did, able to see through the breadth of a situation in what seemed to be just a brief flyover, a bird’s eye view of people’s wants and needs and motivations.

He guessed that was the kind of perspective one only acquired through flight. Hendery wouldn’t know, having been perpetually trapped in a cage of his father’s making.

Hendery took a shaky breath. “Are you scared? Of whatever you’re looking for in Seoul?”      

Ten finally looked up at him, eyes searching, obviously surprised by the question. Whatever he found on Hendery’s face made his brow furrow. “Why would you ask me that?”     

Hendery shrugged, looking away. “Because of what you said in the kitchen last night. About being desperate. I’ve never been desperate and not afraid. So, are you?”     

Ten eyed him for a moment longer, then abruptly laid back on the grass, stretching out and putting his arms behind his head. “Yeah, I am.”    

“Why?” Hendery was pushing his luck, here, but Ten was responding to his questions with much greater frequency than normal, and he didn’t want to miss an opportunity to get some real answers.   

The sun shone on Ten’s face, and he closed his eyes against the bright light. “Because there’s a lot to be afraid of.”                        

Hendery studied him, trying not to let himself be distracted by Ten’s profile, the slope of his nose, his slightly parted lips. “I suppose so,” he said. “But there’s a lot of good in the world, too.”      

Ten opened his eyes and tilted his head to look at Hendery, bewildered. After several moments, he huffed a disbelieving laugh, expression softening. “You’re… so…” He shook his head, searching for the right words. “You’re the opposite of Hong-Kong, you know. That city is so toxic, it’s amazing you’re a product of it.”    

“Who says I’m not toxic?” Hendery asked. “All I’ve done is ruin things for everyone. You, Sicheng, my parents...”      

Ten sat up, sighing. “If anyone in the world is even remotely undamaged by the shit they’ve been through, Hendery, it’s you.”  

A slim, person-shaped shadow fell across both of them, and Ten smiled prettily up at Sicheng, adding, “God knows Winwin and I are super fucked up, huh?"      

Hendery was shocked into laughter at Ten’s coarse Mandarin as Sicheng put his hands on his hips and scowled at Ten. “Well, good to see you, too, I guess.”       

Ten leaned back on his elbows, cocking his head playfully. “I was just reassuring Hendery that there are many people in worse shape than him.”       

Sicheng considered that, then spread his hands in concession. “Okay, that’s fair.” A tiny smile played across his lips as he looked over at Hendery.

Hendery smiled back. He felt a lot better than he had a few minutes ago.

 

* * *

 

 

Lucas and Yangyang’s eventual arrival was very loud, to the surprise of no one.

      

They were on their bikes, so there was little to do but listen to the roar as they descended from the sky, the wind blowing around them and whipping their hair about.

       

“Hey there,” Lucas said, slapping Kun on the back as he came to stand next to him. Kun smiled in welcome.

       

“You’re late,” Kun said jovially, not sounding particularly upset about it.

       

“Ah,” Lucas waved him off. “I have a business to run, come on.”

       

“I know,” answered Kun, and it was difficult to imagine that Lucas didn’t know how his friend felt, with those fond eyes pointed his direction all the time. “You’re a very busy man.”

       

“If y’all are done flirting,” Xiaojun interrupted loudly. “These boys have someplace they need to be.”

       

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucas waved them off, grinning, oblivious to Kun’s flushed face. “Let’s do it.”

       

Lucas started towards the wayward drone, Yangyang in tow, while Kun made an unhappy face at Xiaojun. While Lucas, Yangyang, and Sicheng talked about what to do, Kun sat down on the grass next to Hendery and Ten with a huff. Hendery wasn’t sure if he should get involved in this one, but he asked tentatively, “Are you okay?”

       

Kun looked at him in surprise. “Yeah, of course.”

       

Hendery waited, before saying, “Well, I just… your friends seem to be making your life harder than it needs to be.”

       

Kun’s forehead creased in consternation. He sighed, “No, they’re not. They’re just… trying to help.”

       

“Really?” inquired Ten coolly, eyebrow raised. He was smoking again, and Hendery found himself being strangely comforted by the smell. It was becoming familiar.

       

“I’ve always taken care of them. Tried to, at least,” Kun stared across the clearing at the others. “I’m the oldest, so… But, yeah, they’re just frustrated at me.”

       

“For not making a move?” Ten asked incredulously. “Why?”

       

“Lucas and I have…” Kun paused, cutting off and looking away. “A complicated history. It’s never going to happen. Not for real.”

        

“You guys seem good for each other,” Hendery insisted, and Ten nodded in agreement. It occurred to him that he and Ten might be ganging up on Kun a little, but really, this was a serious matter.

       

With a heavy sigh, Kun shook his head. “You guys just met us.”

       

Hendery supposed that was true, but he really liked these guys, despite the fact that they’d tried to pull one over on them with the drone. The thing was, Hendery, Ten, and Sicheng had all just met, too, but after all that had happened, it felt like they were bonded together in some inexplicable way, by circumstances and something else, something bigger.

       

Maybe Hendery was overly attached. He responded, “Well, sometimes you need an outside perspective on things.”

       

Kun nodded and rolled his shoulder out like it was sore. “Yeah, that’s for sure.”

       

It was desolate in this part of China, no drones in the sky as far the eye could see. In fact, Hendery was positive that they were parked illegally, but what else could they have done? There were, actually, some pretty dark storm clouds developing over the mountains; Hendery was not eager to be caught in that.

       

“Do you think we’ll be able to get moving soon?” Hendery asked.

       

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Kun answered. “But you can count on afternoon thunder showers up here.”

       

Hendery exchanged looks with Ten, who said uncertainly, “Rain won’t hurt us, darling.”

       

“Yeah. Okay.”

       

Kun noticed them looking at the sky, then commented, “Water’s not so good for a drone’s engine, though.”

       

Ten groaned. “Fuck.”

 

* * *

 

The desperate scramble to get the drone’s engine covered up from the rain after they’d already been tearing it apart was not fun, but Sicheng felt pretty confident that it hadn’t gotten wet. He, on the other hand, was a different story. 

The WayV boys had taken refuge in Kun’s cop car, leaving Hendery and Ten to climb into the old, broken-down drone to escape from the downpour. Sicheng wasn’t so lucky, becoming soaked to the bone in the amount of time it took to get the hood down and a canvas sheet over the top for additional protection of the parts that were currently strewn on the ground around the nose of the car.

When he finally crawled into the pilot’s seat of the grounded drone, he hair and clothes were sopping wet, droplets dripping down his cheeks and forehead and into his eyelashes. It wasn’t the end of the world, but it definitely didn’t improve his mood.   

Hendery and Ten, who were barely damp, were sitting in silence when Sicheng got inside the cockpit, watching the rain through the windshield, Hendery in the passenger seat and Ten in the middle. The wind had picked up significantly, blowing leaves and water every which way. There was a loud rumble of thunder as Sicheng attempted to wipe some of the water from his face and hair; it seemed like a bit of a lost cause, given that his hands were just as wet as the rest of him.       

“Hold on, here,” Ten murmured, shrugging off that abhorrent leopard print vest and reaching up to wipe water from Sicheng’s face and neck. He felt goose-bumps form up and down his arms at the warm touch against his freezing skin, and he shivered. If Ten noticed, he didn’t mention it.       

Ten moved the fabric to Sicheng’s forehead, swiping a piece of soaking hair back in the process, and their eyes met. The small drone required proximity, so their faces were barely six inches apart. Ten’s eyes, dark and intelligent, were soft and unguarded, for once. His hair was curling a little where it had gotten wet. They looked at each other, and it felt… different. Not so much like Sicheng was being trapped, ensnared, but more something that made Sicheng’s heart beat faster and stomach flutter peculiarly.      

It felt a little like getting behind the wheel of a drone, he realized with a jolt.       

Hendery coughed, and they both startled. Another rumble of thunder shook through the interior of the drone.

Sicheng abruptly came back to himself, snatching the fabric from Ten’s hands with a muttered, “Thanks.”      

Ten just smiled softly and nodded, then leaned back and let Sicheng continue to attempt to get dry with the make-shift towel. The material was soft and surprisingly absorbent, and worked fairly well, considering it had been an accessory just minutes before.    

The rain pattered heavily against the thick glass of the windshield, and it was a comforting noise. Hendery asked, “Ten, are we going to get to Seoul in time?”       

Sicheng’s eyes narrowed. Did Hendery know something he didn’t? “In time for what?”

Hendery shrugged, looking at Ten worriedly. “In time for whatever it is Ten needs to do.”     

They both looked at Ten expectantly. Ten didn’t answer, the rain filling the silence for several beats. Finally, he said quietly, raw and honest, “I don’t know.”     

“Why can’t you tell us?” Sicheng pushed. “What you’re doing.”       

Ten pursed his lips, face suddenly closed off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, my darlings. I’m nothing if not transparent.”      

Hendery made a noise of frustration, and Sicheng rolled his eyes. “Right. Okay, _darling._ ” Sicheng’s voice was acerbic. Hendery flinched a little, even though the jab hadn’t been directed at him.     

Ten’s eyes flickered to his, briefly, then he looked back outside. The window was fogging up with their breath and body heat, so he couldn’t possibly see much. His eyes were far away and glazed over, and Sicheng wondered where he was, in his head. It was impossible to tell, as always with Ten.       

Hendery posited hesitantly, “Sicheng, I don’t… how are we going to get there? It seems like everything has gone wrong so far.”    

Sicheng sighed, stretching his legs out as much as he could in the small space. “Yeah, it kind of has.”   

Hendery was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry.”  

Sicheng looked at him in confusion. “Why are you sorry, Hendery?”       

“For… for making this so hard. For ruining everything,” Hendery stuttered out, not meeting Sicheng’s eyes. This had clearly been weighing heavily on his mind.      

“You haven’t ruined anything,” Sicheng reassured, a little baffled. “Okay? We’ve just had bad luck. It’s not your fault.”    

Hendery still seemed unconvinced, staring at his lap, and Sicheng had no idea how to make this better. Abruptly, Ten put a hand on the back of Hendery’s neck, making him look at the two of them. Sicheng didn’t even think Ten had been listening. He said, “Hendery, listen to me. You are not to blame for any of the things that have happened. And the people that have made you feel like that are shitty people. I know that, because I’m one of them.”       

A crease formed between Hendery’s eyes as he tried to protest. Ten gripped the nape of his neck and interrupted, “No, I did. On purpose. Because I could see that it wasn’t hard to do, and it aligned with what I needed. People are shitty, and they’ll try to make you feel like you are, too, Hendery, but you’re not.”

“You’re not,” Sicheng echoed, because he didn’t know what else he could say.    

Ten removed his hand from Hendery’s neck, carefully, as Hendery looked back and forth between the two of them.      

He admitted quietly, “I don’t know if I can ever escape my father. Even if he’s not here.”     

Sicheng’s hand reached out automatically to put it over Hendery’s own, across Ten’s small body. He didn’t really think it through, and now both Ten and Hendery were staring at him in surprise. He didn’t move his hand.     

Earnestly, Sicheng added, with conviction, “There isn’t anything you can’t escape with a fast-enough drone.”     

Both of them cracked a smile at that, the heaviness of the conversation lifting somewhat. Ten laughed, “Said like a true pilot.”              

Hendery started laughing, too, soft and relieved, and Sicheng grinned sheepishly.     

He felt lighter than he had for a long time.


	12. interlude: trajectory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full chapter coming tomorrow, but until then, have some angsty Ten.

The sun was starting to go down as the mechanics got the drone up and running.

It was half a day wasted; half a day in which Ten’s friends might be hurting—or worse. If it weren’t for the police chase, they could have been in Seoul by now, and Ten would never have had to see Winwin or Hendery again. Soon, though, they would get going, and be in Seoul in a matter of hours, and the three could part ways before things got messy.

Which was probably for the best.

Ten had already said too much. Hendery was easy to talk to because he was kind and more importantly, naïve, and he didn’t seem to possess a malicious bone in his body. Ten doubted Hendery would ever do anything with the information he had about him.

Sicheng, on the other hand… Ten had no business saying anything of importance to that pilot. It could get both of them in trouble, and the last thing Ten needed was more loose ends in this whole disaster.

They were rapidly hurtling towards an end to all of this, Ten's path set in stone, and that end didn't involve a rogue pilot with a death wish or a starry-eyed, reluctant heir to an empire.

But there was something about them that he couldn’t help but gravitate towards.

Ten had bigger things to worry about, though. He wasn’t going to be distracted by a set of pretty cheekbones, nor would he fall into the trap of complacency that Hendery lulled him into. He imagined it would be nice, living in Hendery’s brain, seeing the best in people before the bad, or living like Sicheng, with his quiet, careless rebellion.

Entirely impractical for someone like Ten, however, who had a price on his head and nobody to watch his back.

Yangyang came over to stand next to Ten. He said, “She’s up and running, but we’re going to follow you as far as Beijing to make sure she can make it across the ocean.”

“Oh, no need,” Ten said airily. More people in their party meant more attention. Which meant higher risk of the police taking notice. “I’m sure we’ll be fine on our own, Yangyang.”

“They’re coming with us,” Sicheng asserted, stalking over. “We don’t need another break-down in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

Ten looked at Hendery, who was apparently BFF’s with Yangyang now, arms slung around each other and chatting animatedly. So he was no help, then.

Lucas misinterpreted his hesitance and offered cheerfully, "Honestly, man, we've got nothing better to do." 

There was nothing that he could say that wouldn't send up red flags. Damn it. 

He huffed petulantly. “Fine.”

“You are such a brat,” muttered Sicheng.

“Ooo, am I in trouble?” Ten cooed with a flirty wink.

Sicheng rolled his eyes, as usual, but… had he turned a little red? Mission accomplished.

When Ten looked back at Hendery and Yangyang, Hendery was staring at them with an odd look on his face. Oh, well. You couldn’t win them all.

“Come on, we’re leaving,” commanded Sicheng authoritatively, hurrying to the drone. Hendery followed, still bemused.

Lucas and Yangyang climbed on their bikes, chatting happily with Kun and Xiaojun as they went. Ten saw them pull on helmets as he drifted reluctantly towards the drone again. He really didn’t want these guys following them. It seemed like a very significant liability.

Xiaojun and Kun were headed in the direction of the cop car, with Kun stopping to lightly pat Ten’s shoulder. “Good luck with your guys.”

Ten snorted derisively. “What do you mean, _my guys_?”

Kun shrugged with a knowing smile. “Maybe just an outside perspective thing.”

Grinning, Xiaojun gave Ten a thumbs up, and they climbed into the police cruiser. Ten frowned after them. What the hell? This was why he hated having other people involved. He didn't fucking have time for this. 

Hendery rolled down a window and stuck his head out the passenger side. “Ten? Sicheng says he’s gonna leave without you.”

Ten had an inkling that Sicheng wouldn’t actually leave without him, but he hurried anyway. 

Even if Sicheng and Hendery were merely temporary distractions, a simple means to an end, they sure were pretty, after all. 


	13. bend

 

It was getting dark now.

The sky had cleared as they had weaved through the mountains, and the sun had sunk below the horizon, leaving the sky a pretty shade of periwinkle. Hendery watched with wonder as stars began to appear, dotting the dark sky with twinkling light. He smiled. He had almost forgotten where they were going, what they were doing, the fact that he was technically a criminal on the run.

It didn’t seem so bad, right now. He'd never seen stars before.

“We’ll need to re-fuel soon,” Sicheng said. “This drone’s gas tank is tiny.”

“Can we make it to Beijing?” Ten asked.

“Shouldn’t we stop in the middle of nowhere, before we get into the city?” Sicheng answered. “So that we don’t attract attention.”

Hendery said, “We’ll attract less attention in the city.” Both of the others looked at him in surprise. “If Beijing is anything like Hong-Kong, you can do most anything and nobody will notice. Especially if you act like you’re supposed to be there.”

Ten was staring at him, eyebrows raised. “I actually agree. I flew under the radar for years in Hong-Kong. But I bet if the three of us stroll through a tiny town in the middle of China, it’ll attract attention.”

Sicheng seemed to accept the majority opinion after a moment’s thought. “Okay. Someone let the others know the plan.”

Ten nodded and typed a few words into the communication console of the drone, sending it over to the others. Within a few seconds, Xiaojun sent back a smiley face and a thumbs-up emoji.

Sicheng paused, then said, “Hendery, that was a good call. I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

Something about the way Sicheng said that, like it was a complete surprise that Hendery would have a good contribution to their continued survival, made Hendery bristle, retorting, “I’m not stupid. You can stop treating like I am.”

There was an awkward silence. Sicheng finally answered, a bit timidly, “I don’t think you’re stupid--”

“You do,” Hendery interrupted, irritation raising his voice a few notches above his normal volume. “I said it before to Ten. Both of you treat me like I’m stupid and young and that I don’t know anything because I grew up the way I did.”

Another tense silence. He could tell both of them were thinking of ways to placate him, to soothe him like he was a child having a tantrum, and that made him even angrier, and he didn’t even know why. “Just... don’t.”

Ten pressed his lips together, clearly getting annoyed. It had been a long day, and they were all hungry and exhausted. “You _are_ young, Hendery. And you have no idea what it’s like out there. You’re lucky.”

Hendery scoffed. “I'm, what, three years younger than you? And I’m _lucky_? Okay, I’ll remember that when my dad beats me to death--”

“You’re lucky that’s the only thing you have to worry about,” Ten responded through gritted teeth, having trouble keeping his composure. “You’re lucky that you have enough privilege that your daddy only hits you--”

“You think that’s privilege?” Hendery burst out, hurt and anger coursing through him like a snake’s venom, even as Ten targeted all of his insecurities. “Are you just too damaged to know better?”

Sicheng cut in with, “Hey, stop it, both of you.”

“And who are you to tell me what to do?” Ten asked with a sarcastic smile, turning to Sicheng. “Why the fuck are you even still here?”

Sicheng sighed. “Because you two would have killed each other by now if I wasn’t here.”

Hendery closed his eyes, still fuming. “You don’t have to worry about that. Ten isn’t worth the murder charge.”

“That’s what I count on,” Ten chimed, sing-song in that infuriating way of his. Hendery had never wanted to punch someone so badly. Usually, the idea of violence made him sick. Now, it seemed like a good option.

Nobody spoke for a while, Ten and Hendery both quietly fuming. Sicheng finally said quietly, ‘We’re all tired. Maybe we should stop for the night.”

Ten made a frustrated noise, but Sicheng cut him off. “I’m not a cyborg, Ten. I can’t drive all night. I wish I could. But we need to sleep. I wouldn’t mind a shower, too.”

Hendery snorted, nodding. “I wouldn’t mind if you guys showered, either.”

Ten pressed his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes. He brought his palms to his eyes and seemed to dig into the sockets in a way that must have hurt. “Okay. But you’re paying, Top Gun.”

 

* * *

 

The girl at the desk barely looked up from her interface as Hendery and Sicheng approached.

“How can I help you?” she asked, monotone and uninterested. The lobby was tiny, lit dimly by bluish fluorescents, the only decorations a couple of white plastic chairs and a couple of magazines on a side-table.  

This was the kind of establishment even Sicheng, broke as he was, wouldn’t usually risk sleeping in. Sure, it was cheap as dirt, but nobody would bat an eye if someone was stabbed in the parking lot. Places like this had one unspoken rule: no cops, no questions.

Which was why it was perfect.

Hendery put on his best smile, and stepped up to the desk, looking through the little window in the wall at the teenaged girl on the other side. Even sleep deprived and in the same rumpled clothes as yesterday, Hendery was charming and attractive, and the girl seemed to do a slight double-take when glanced at him. He said simply, “We need a room, please,” and Sicheng could have sworn he saw the girl swoon.

Sicheng stood to one side, prepared to step in if necessary, but he didn’t think the motel employee even noticed he was here, with the way she was staring, a little dazed, at Hendery, who was now leaning on the counter casually, cheerfully asking the girl about her day. He wasn’t acting particularly different from usual, kind and sweet, but Sicheng doubted that in this place, the girl had a very impressive array of options in terms of romantic affection.

He glanced outside the window, to the parked drone, where Ten was waiting, out of sight.  

Yangyang, Kun, Xiaojun, and Lucas had split up with them just outside of Beijing, promising to stay close and meet up with them first thing in the morning. Kun, being a cop, likely had access to slightly better accommodations than this, given that a place like this--purposefully placed just on the edge of city limits where they wouldn’t be subject to the laws of Beijing--probably wouldn’t have been eager to rent a room to a cop anyway. And they weren’t actively on the run, like Sicheng and his companions were, so there was that.

Sicheng stared down at the stained linoleum floor, exhaustion catching up to him and making his head foggy. It had been hours since they'd decided they would stop, and his vision had been starting to blur from driving for so long. He tuned in right when he heard Hendery say, “Oh, shoot. I think we left that stuff in the car. I can go look for it...”

He smiled apologetically, yawning in a way that made his face scrunch adorably, and somehow, the motel employee bought it, waving him away. “No, it’s alright. You’re tired. I probably don’t need identification.”  

What the actual fuck? Was this a rich person thing? Sicheng watched with fascination as Hendery innocently flirted his way through the rest of the interaction, handing over a wad of cash that Sicheng had only just acquired from him the other day. He gave her another dazzling smile. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” the girl answered, handing over a key card. “Here you go.”

They were almost back out to the car when Sicheng said in amazement, “What just happened?”

Hendery gave him a wide-eyed look. “What do you mean?”

Sicheng blinked. “Are you a witch? How did you do that?”

Hendery headed for the passenger side door. “How did I do what?”

He hopped in the drone, ready for Sicheng to pull the car around the building to where their drone was, out of sight of the lobby. Sicheng smiled and shook his head in disbelief. He honestly couldn’t tell if Hendery was oblivious to his earnest charm or just very humble about it.

But it was getting late, and Sicheng didn’t want to be standing in this parking lot for a moment longer than he had to. Even though it was the last thing he wanted to do right now, he clambered back into the pilot’s seat.

 

* * *

 

The smell of marajuana was almost overwhelming when they first stepped into the small motel room, but it was clean enough, Hendery supposed, and there were two real, soft-ish beds, which was more than any of them really could have asked, even if the springs creaked a bit worryingly when Hendery plopped down. Even though it wasn’t the nicest establishment, it felt good to be on solid ground after a day of driving.

Ten had been grumpy and quiet for the past few hours, probably more tired and hungry than he wanted to admit. He’d immediately called the first shower, and neither of the other two had protested. Ten was still covered in glittery body lotion and day-old makeup, after all, so he probably needed it the most.

Sicheng had grabbed them some packs of dry noodles from the vending machine outside and was preparing them with hot microwaved water quietly; even the thought of food made Hendery’s mouth water. They hadn’t eaten since this morning, and instant ramen seemed like the best thing in the world right now.

Yangyang had thoughtfully brought them a bag that contained a change of clothes each, anticipating they wouldn’t have extras, which no, none of them had even considered what with all of the police evasion, and truthfully, it was a very welcome comfort, after two days in the same clothes. Especially since Ten wasn’t exactly inconspicuous in his current get-up, even without his leopard print.

Sicheng gently placed a warm cup of noodles in Hendery’s hands, setting down another for Ten on the bedside table for when he got out of the shower. Hendery smiled, immensely grateful for such a small gesture. “Thank you, Sicheng.”

“No problem,” Sicheng muttered, perching directly across from Hendery on the other bed and digging his chopsticks into his own noodles.

It was weird, this easy companionship they had formed. Granted, the three of them had bickered their way through the day, but they had settled into a comfortable orbit, knowing what to expect and adjusting to one another’s constant presence, like they weren’t practically strangers.

Hendery slurped his noodles thoughtfully as Ten came out of the bathroom, dark hair wet and face clean of makeup, dressed in the soft, simple clothes Yangyang had brought for them. Hendery couldn’t help but stare for just a moment too long: he had never seen Ten this way, in casual clothes, without his eyes cloaked in sparkly shadow and rimmed with dark eyeliner. He looked different, somehow less intimidating, definitely younger, but still beautiful in that effortless way of his.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sicheng looking surreptitiously, too. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Ten was in the process of toweling off his hair, eyes only for the noodles on the bedside table. He flopped down next to Sicheng and made grabby hands for the food in Sicheng’s hands.

Sicheng scoffed, maneuvering slightly to keep his cup out of Ten’s reach. “You have your own.”

Ten grinned, leaning close enough for his shoulder to touch Sicheng’s and saying into his ear, “But yours will taste so much better.”

Sicheng rolled his eyes, but passed Ten the other cup of noodles and a pair of chopsticks. Hendery noticed that he didn’t attempt to re-establish the space between them, their arms brushing as they ate.

He felt a rush of something ugly and unpleasant. He put down his noodles, suddenly not hungry after only a few bites.

“I’m gonna shower,” he announced. Sicheng hummed slightly in response, both of them seemingly entirely focused on eating their ramen. While something in him really, really didn’t want to leave the two of them alone together, he also couldn’t stand to be in the same room as them all of a sudden. He supposed it was just the constant time spent together; that was bound to make them tired of each other, eventually.

But Ten and Sicheng didn’t seem to be getting tired of each other. In fact, it seemed like it was kind of the opposite. He didn’t know why that should bother him, since they had been at each other’s throats yesterday. He felt like he should be happy that they were getting along, in their own antagonist way.

But he really, really wasn’t.

He spent the entire time under the hot water trying to scrub that sour feeling from his skin.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sicheng’s chest felt warm from the spicy broth, relaxed and comfortable now that his stomach wasn’t rumbling anymore. He set down his chopsticks, gaze catching on Ten’s profile in the soft lamplight. He didn’t really have anything to say, but for some reason, the silence had an odd quality to it. So he asked, “Do you feel better?”

Ten’s gaze was steady when he looked back, sipping at the remaining broth in his own cup, considering. “I suppose so. All down to your cooking skills, of course.”

His lips were just barely upturned, voice somewhat lacking his usual bravado. It was odd, seeing him like this, sleepy and unguarded in a t-shirt and soft pants. Sicheng wasn’t sure how to act, Ten’s usual sharp, barbed wit softening to something gentler, almost playful. He allowed himself to smile a bit, too.

“Of course,” he replied drily. “I’ve been told I’m quite the chef.”

Ten tilted his head slightly, shifting to put down his empty ramen cup and look at Sicheng better. Their thighs were pressed together now, and Sicheng wondered if Ten was hyper aware of the contact the way he himself was. He could smell the cheap, flowery motel soap on Ten’s skin, this close. “You are quite the captain, too.”

Ten’s voice was quiet. The walls were thin, and Hendery was just in the next room, even if the shower was running.

“I’m trying my best,” Sicheng answered, low and rough. “You two hooligans don’t exactly make it easy.”

Ten studied him, eyes flicking over Sicheng’s face. “I suppose we don’t,” he said, something in his tone that Sicheng didn’t recognize. “You put up with a lot.”

Sicheng knew that he should do something, turn away, change the subject. He knew that Ten was a snake, an opportunist, doing whatever it took to get what he wanted, what he needed. He knew that Ten would stab him in the back in a second, and that this was probably just another one of his games.

It didn’t matter. He was entirely helpless in Ten’s proximity, caught in a way that he couldn’t pull away from. He understood now how Hendery had fallen prey to this so easily.

He felt Ten’s small hand on the nape of his neck, gentle and comforting. He let himself enjoy the touch for a moment, then took a deep breath, in and out. Their faces were inches apart, and Sicheng was going to kiss him. 

Then his eyes caught on Ten’s wrist, laying relaxed in his lap, harsh lines of black against light skin. He squinted at it, brain not quite computing what he was looking at. He faintly heard the shower turn off. “Ten, what is that?”

He sounded loud and unnatural to his ears, even though his voice was barely above a whisper. Ten started, pulling his other hand from Sicheng’s neck and following the line of Sicheng’s uncomprehending stare. When he realized what Sicheng was looking at, his motion was swift, off the bed and angling his body the other direction before Sicheng knew what had happened.

He asked again, louder and more forcefully this time, “Ten, what was that? On your wrist?”

Sicheng reached for Ten’s hand without thinking, intending on turning over his arm to take a closer look. Ten jerked away from his touch, almost hissing the words, “Don’t touch me.”

The bathroom door opened, and Hendery peered around it in confusion, likely hearing the tone of their voices even if he couldn’t make out the exact words. He was still wearing a towel around his waist, droplets of water dripping down the skin of his torso. “What’s going on?”

Ten was backing away from Sicheng, looking more and more like a caged animal, Hendery standing between him and the door. Neither of them had seen Ten this visibly upset before. His chest was rising and falling quickly.

Hendery was looking between them, bewildered, eyes asking Sicheng what he should do. He put his hands up, trying to approach Ten without scaring him. “Ten, are you okay?”

Ten was still staring at Sicheng, jaw set, and Sicheng didn’t know how to deal with this version of Ten, so wildly unpredictable, so dangerous when cornered. He snarled, “Winwin doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself.”

So that was how they were going to play this. Typical. Sicheng should have guessed.

Hendery raised an eyebrow at Sicheng, eyes wide. “Sicheng?”

“I didn’t--I was just trying to--Hendery, his left wrist,” Sicheng tried to explain dumbly, words failing him. “Is that a tattoo? Can you see it?”

Hendery caught Ten’s arm from behind, gentle but firm, and Ten twisted hard, prying away violently. “Ten--”

Hendery was taller and stronger, having been well fed his entire life, but unlike Hendery, Ten wasn’t trying to be careful: he was trying to get away, and he didn’t seem to care if Hendery was hurt in the process. As Hendery tried to block his flight with his body, Ten shouldered him out of the way, and Sicheng was on his feet before he could think it through, ready to interfere.

“Ten, where the hell are you going?” he shouted. But Ten was already out the door, slamming it behind him.

The silence he left was deafening, and neither Hendery nor Sicheng moved for a long moment. Sicheng tried to steady his breathing and asked, “Hendery? Are you okay?”

Hendery had been shoved against the wall as Ten had barreled past, but he seemed more shaken than anything, staring at the door, glassy-eyed, like it would provide some answers as to what just happened.

Sicheng put a hand on Hendery’s shoulder, hoping it would help bring Hendery back to the present. Hendery flinched, slightly, and Sicheng muttered, “Sorry.”

He went to remove his hand, but Hendery grabbed at it.

“No, it’s fine,” he asserted, and it was only the quiet certainty in his words that kept Sicheng from pulling away anyway. 

They just stared at each other, raw, both trying to understand the events of the past few seconds.

Hendery swallowed hard, then whispered, “Are _you_ okay?”

Sicheng didn’t remember the last time he had been asked that; not since he was a small child, surely. He didn’t answer, not meeting Hendery’s gaze, and grabbed the set of clothes that would fit Hendery. He pushed the fabric into Hendery’s chest, forcing Hendery to let go of his hand and take the clothing. “You should get dressed.”

Truthfully, Sicheng needed a moment to process more than anything, but it wouldn’t hurt for Hendery to cover up all of that bare skin. He sat down hard on the end of one of the beds while Hendery retreated back into the bathroom.

That had definitely been a tattoo, pierced into the tender skin of Ten’s wrist over his pulse, black ink indicating a series of tiny letters and numbers in a neat line. Hendery had seen it, too, from the confusion that had shown plain on his face.

Where Sicheng was from, tattoos meant only one thing, reserved for gangs and other forms of organized crime, but maybe it was different wherever Ten was from. Where that was, they still didn’t know.

If there was anything they had learned from what just happened, it was a confirmation that Ten absolutely couldn’t be trusted.

He felt the mattress dip as Hendery sat down beside him, dried off and dressed. He could feel Hendery’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up. “Do you think he’s coming back?”

A day ago, Sicheng would have wanted nothing more than for the answer to be no, he’s not coming back.  But maybe it was something about Hendery’s tone, or something about the fear in Ten’s eyes as he had fled. As much as he hated to admit it, he cared about Ten. He didn’t want him to be alone out there, no matter how much of a snake he was. At least with them, they knew he was safe. 

But it didn’t matter what he wanted. Ten was one who had left, and it was up to him if he wanted to come back.

So he replied honestly, “I don’t know.”

He let Hendery silently curl up against him, head on his shoulder, damp hair cool against his skin. Hendery naturally offered and craved physical affection in equal parts, and Sicheng found himself grateful for Hendery’s proficiency in this particular realm.

This strange intimacy, Hendery’s light breath against his collarbone, Hendery’s ankle hooked lightly around his, was the only thing tethering Sicheng to the ground.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

 


	14. damage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is such a short update, but there will be more very soon! Just need some time to make it readable.

It was dark when Ten finally stumbled his way back into the cheap motel room, key thrown carelessly on top of the mini-fridge as he went by. It was late into the night, the lamps turned off long ago in favor of getting a few hours of sleep. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d come back, but he was cold and tired and this was where his feet had carried him.

He had been so stupid. So stupid.

Ten was so used to covering his wrist in a thick layer of makeup every day that he had completely forgotten what was there, in his exhaustion and hunger and the false sense of security provided by his traveling companions. And apparently in his attraction to that stupid pilot. Stupid, all of it.

He had almost forgotten what was inked on his skin, but that was the thing about tattoos: they didn’t just disappear, no matter how much Ten wished it would.

He had been formulating a plan as he had methodically flirted with a shopkeeper, gotten the things he needed, already far away in his mind. He didn’t have any money, he’d realized when he was wandering around the streets, didn’t have an ID, didn’t have anything that could possibly help him. He’d made do with nothing before in his life, though, and he could do it again.

But he did have other skills to offer, skills that, at this point in life, he had no qualms about using to his advantage.

He could hitchhike his way to Seoul, he’d thought. That wouldn’t be too hard; interstate truckers were usually bored and horny, and thus easy to manipulate. It was dangerous, yes, putting himself at the mercy of strangers, alone and with no hope of even being reported missing, but it wasn’t terribly different from what he was already doing now, with Hendery and Sicheng. At least on paper.

But the first order of business was making sure this fucking tattoo was hidden. If Hendery judged him for his stripping, he’d thought, amused, then he would probably faint at the thought of what he’d just done for ten dollars worth of drug store makeup. At least Ten knew what he was worth.

He had left with only a small tube of concealer that didn’t quite match the color of his skin, some tea, and a bag of cookies.

He’d quickly covered his tattoo up with the makeup, in the harsh blue light in the convenience store parking lot, tapping the liquid onto his skin efficiently until it just looked like he had a patch of slightly orange skin on his wrist. Which was fine. As long as he didn’t have to see it.

He missed his co-workers at the club, with their expensive makeup and their nice brushes and their talented hands. He’d never met a group of less judgmental people in his life: the best part was that nobody asked too many questions, because they all had pasts that were checkered at best, and they understood hardship. Probably nothing like Ten’s, but that didn’t matter.

He missed them, he realized with surprise, and not just for their makeup skills. They’d been his only positive human contact for a long time, and now he was never going to see them again, without so much as a goodbye.

He missed a lot of people, though. He’d gotten quite good at tamping the feeling down, after this long.

He had to go back to Hendery and Sicheng, he’d decided. He wouldn’t let his pride get in the way of a guaranteed ride and somewhat-trustworthy alliance.

Plus, maybe he didn’t want to say goodbye to these ones quite yet. That would come soon enough, no matter what Ten did.

He didn’t know if it was a good idea to keep traveling with Hendery and Sicheng, but he didn’t know what else to do. They were still his best bet.

He didn’t think they could get caught in the cross-fire of Ten’s life, but he didn’t know for sure. Maybe he was a little selfish. 

Only a few more hours, really, if he thought about it. Ten needed them only as far as the Korean border, and then he could figure it out on his own. Things were going to become dangerous, and the last thing Ten needed was more collateral damage. 

He only hoped that they wouldn’t throw him out on his ass for his earlier behavior. He had lost it, he was aware. But Sicheng had overstepped his bounds, and if either of them were smart, it wouldn’t be that hard to figure out what Ten’s tattoo represented, and that was a risk he hadn’t been willing to take. It was a delicate balance between protecting himself and completely alienating the only people in the world that were currently able and willing to help him.

He kept thinking back to another night, a long time ago, now, darker and colder than this one. When presented with an option between fight or flight, he had chosen flight then as well. And he had survived. He was good at surviving.

Sometimes, he wished he had chosen to fight. Especially now that his decision was having consequences for the people he loved.

But Ten tried not to dwell on the past. Regret didn’t put food on the table.

Ten moved quietly, trying not to wake up Sicheng or Hendery. The only light in the room was the dim, diffused glow coming in from the parking lot through the thin curtains. He could see that Sicheng and Hendery were each in their own bed, meaning that he had to make a decision as to which one was less likely to slap him if he got in without warning. He reluctantly contemplated sleeping on the floor, his back already aching from two days in the cramped drone. He was still thinking when he heard a sleepy voice say, “Ten?”

It was Hendery, because of course it was. He swallowed. “Hi.”

Hendery squinted at him in the dark, then patted the space next to him on the bed, an invitation. Ten laid down next to him, on top of the covers, and they looked at each other, as well as they could in the dim light. Ten was brought back to another time, in another bed, in another country, in which he had done the same thing, a seventeen-year-old climbing into a too-small bed in the middle of the night, quiet so that he didn’t wake up the others, and murmured to the occupant of the bed about silly things or not-so-silly things until they both fell asleep. He was a bit disoriented when Hendery whispered, “Where’d you go?”

Ten swore that he could make out Hendery’s eyelashes, thick and dark as they were, and that’s what he focused on as he answered, “To the convenience store. I brought you guys cookies.”

Hendery smiled a little at the implication that cookies were the appropriate apology for what had happened, but humored him anyway. “Oh? Was that all?”

“Yes,” Ten said. Guilt rose up in him, ugly and unchecked in his sleep-deprived state. He remembered a night in the club, weeks ago. Hendery had been drunk and lonely, pouring his heart out into Ten’s ear that _he needed to leave, needed to get out of that house. He couldn’t keep living like this. He was so afraid._ Ten had related to it on a level that had required some expert repression. “I shoved you, earlier. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

He couldn’t quite tell what expression Hendery had on his face now, and he acutely felt the strange shift in dynamic between the two of them; suddenly, it was he who was uncertain and craving validation, Hendery the one with the power. Hendery finally said, “It’s okay, Ten.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Ten said again, plaintively, almost like a child, needing Hendery to understand this, for some reason that his exhausted brain didn’t want to delve into tonight.

Face-to-face, like this, in the same bed, there was nowhere to hide. Hendery was looking at him with nothing but caring in his eyes, and this made Ten a little upset, given all of the ways in which he had hurt Hendery the past few days.

“I know you didn’t,” Hendery whispered, and Ten knew they weren’t just talking about the shove. Nobody should have that much forgiveness in them, Ten thought crossly. It felt like a trick, a betrayal, but rationally, he knew that it was just Hendery, with his seemingly un-ending capacity for kindness. He’d thought of it as a flaw, a weak point, a thing to take advantage of, but he wondered for the first time if it could actually be strange kind of strength, a sort of superpower that Hendery possessed, one that left Ten totally disarmed. 

More so when Hendery murmured, “I’m glad you came back,” and Ten felt it like a physical blow.

Ten’s chest hurt, for just a moment of exhausted weakness. He felt his throat get strangely tight, tears pricking at his eyes. He usually kept his emotions in check, but… he was so tired, and Hendery was so unflinchingly kind in a way that Ten didn’t deserve.

Hendery had no ulterior motive, wasn’t trying to get anything from Ten, and somehow, that was the worst part, after every horrible thing Ten had done to him.

He thought of Chenle, and Jungwoo, and Taeil. People whose quiet compassion managed to shine through even the darkest of times, even at the expense of their own happiness. A quality he’d always admired in them, but never understood.

He’d let them down, too.

He composed himself before Hendery could notice, and managed a smile. “I’m sure Winwin won’t be.”

Hendery’s answering smile was beautiful, even in the dark. “I wouldn’t be so sure, Ten,” he responded. “I think he knows he messed up, before.”

Ten’s heart nearly stopped all over again at the mere mention of it. Hendery must have noticed the panic, as attuned to the emotions of others as he was, because he added, “You don’t need to tell us anything. It’s not our business.”

Ten nodded numbly, not trusting himself to speak. Hendery reached out and took Ten’s hand, squeezing once before letting go. “I’m going back to sleep, I think. You should try to sleep, too.”

With one last reassuring smile, he turned away, burying his face in his pillows. Ten watched him for another moment before lying back and closing his eyes. Faces of people long-gone swam in his vision, and Ten tried not to associate them with Hendery. They weren’t the same, no matter Hendery’s misplaced dreams of making it big in Seoul, and saving Hendery wouldn’t somehow restore Ten’s cosmic karma, nor would it help the people whom Ten had already caused to be hurt in all this.  

But he could certainly try.

He wouldn’t let Hendery become another casualty.


	15. escape

Sicheng woke to Ten shaking him.

“We have to go,” Ten was murmuring into his ear, pointing at the window and then putting one finger over his mouth to indicate _quiet._ And fuck, when had Ten even gotten back? He felt he should say something, apologize, or demand an apology—he didn’t know.

But there were police lights flashing outside in the parking lot, and they didn’t have time for big conversations.

Hendery was waking up, too, disoriented for only a moment before snapping to attention at the red and blue spots dancing against the uninspiring white walls of their motel room.

“They could be here for someone else,” Sicheng whispered. Ten’s expression was grim, and Sicheng knew that he was kidding himself. They exchanged a long look in which some small understand passed between them, and Sicheng knew that they were going to have a hard time getting out of this one.

They had all been complicit in stealing a drone from one of the elites of Hong-Kong, to be fair.

When Sicheng looked over at Hendery, his eyes were on Ten and Sicheng, and the set of his mouth was strange and unhappy.

There was a slam of a car door outside, and they all unfroze, gathering their meager possessions quickly and quietly. Ten stopped, surreptitiously looking out from behind the curtain, to see what was happening outside. Whatever he saw, he bit his lip and shook his head, indicating the other side of the motel room. “Out the back. Hurry.”

The window was so small that Sicheng wasn’t sure that Ten and Hendery would fit, with their slightly broader shoulders. Hendery seemed to be thinking the same thing, hanging back in hesitation. He took a big breath and bit his lip, looking anxious, while Ten stood on his tip-toes and worked out how to get the window open without breaking it, finally succeeding with a triumphant, “Ah!”

Hendery’s head snapped in the direction of the door as there was a loud knock and a shout of, “Police!”

“Alright, out, out,” Sicheng held his cupped hands near the ground for Ten to use as a step. Ten didn’t need to be told twice, nimbly hoisting himself up and shimmying lithely out through the small space. “Okay, now you, Hendery.”

He glanced up when he realized that Hendery wasn’t moving towards him, but instead was backing away. Sicheng hissed urgently, “What are you doing? Hurry!”

Hendery shook his head slowly. “They’re only after me for the drone. You two can get away, and they won’t chase you.”

Sicheng stared at him, uncomprehending, as Hendery’s nodded to himself, taking a steely breath as he seemed to gain confidence in the decision. The police banged again on the door, harder this time, shouting something that Sicheng didn’t hear. “What? No, what are you talking about? Come on!”

But Hendery seemed set on it. “Don’t worry about me, Sicheng. I’ve caused you enough trouble. And you and Ten are good together, you know.”

“For fuck’s sake—Hendery, don’t be stupid!”

“Just go,” Hendery said, and there was a terrible crash from the room; evidently, the police had just knocked down the door. If Sicheng didn’t go now, they would both be arrested.

The last thing he saw as he desperately scrambled out the window was Hendery exiting the bathroom with his hands up. He hit the concrete ground hard, feeling like he had made a mistake.

“What took you so long?” Ten asked, fear written all over his face.

There was no time to explain. Sicheng grabbed Ten’s arm and started running, along the shadowy sides of the building. Ten wrenched his arm away, forcing them to stop and staring at Sicheng like he’d gone insane. “Where’s Hendery?”

Oh, so now Ten cared about Hendery? Sicheng really couldn’t predict this guy worth a damn. “He’s not coming. He thought that if he stayed behind it would let us off the hook.”

Ten shook his head like he hadn’t heard correctly, his voice going up an octave as he whispered angrily, “What? No, we can’t just _leave_ him—"

“I know we can’t,” Sicheng said through gritted teeth. He scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration— _the things he did for these boys_. “And we’re not going to. But we’re going to get caught if we keep standing here, and then we’ll all be in police custody.”

Ten’s face paled at the thought. “What do we do?”  

“All we need to do is get to the drone and act like everything is totally normal. They probably have an arrest warrant out for me, so they know what I look like, but as far the cops know, you had nothing to do with any of this,” Sicheng told him, continuing to edge along the wall. “Then we can figure out how to make sure Hendery doesn’t get dragged home to that fucking house of horrors.”

Ten followed close, poking him between the shoulder blades as he said, “I have an idea.”

Sicheng sighed internally. This ought to be good.

           

* * *

 

           

Ten’s idea was, as a matter-of-fact, insane. But Ten had a way of making insanity work, so Sicheng guessed they might just pull it off.

It was nearly dawn, the sky lightening to a soft blue in preparation for the sun’s appearance. Sicheng could have used another hour of sleep, but he guessed this was his life now; running from the authorities, one didn’t always keep regular hours.

They were crouching in the bushes around the side of the building; the cops were standing around between them and the drone, but they hadn’t seemed to identify the car as theirs. How the hell had they found them? The girl at the front desk, maybe?

Or maybe Kun and his friends had sold them out.

Sicheng didn’t have the mental energy to think about it now.

“This wasn’t what I had in mind when I said I wanted to know more about you,” Sicheng told Ten, trying his best not to look over at what was happening immediately to his left.

“Oh? Was it not?” Ten asked with a smirk.

He was currently stripping down to his underwear, changing out of his non-descript, comfortable clothes into what he had been wearing when they had left Hong-Kong, instantly turning him into a neon sign announcing their location, given the attention he garnered wearing that outfit. They were hidden in the bushes, but Sicheng was intensely uncomfortable with what people were going to think if anyone discovered them here. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yes,” Ten snapped, then added, “We’re going for _distracting_ , remember?”

“Jesus,” hissed Sicheng into his hands. “Can you hurry up, at least? I don’t know how much time we have.”

Hendery wasn’t visible from their vantage point, but he was clearly in the parking lot, likely shoved in the back of a cop car somewhere. They were betting that the cops would be uncertain about what to do with Hendery, his father's money and power protecting him and slowing down normal procedure. In addition, there were three of them and only one Hendery, so they probably weren’t too concerned about an escape attempt. 

And it only took one cop to make a phone call to an angry CEO; Sicheng idly wondered if they’d drawn lots to decide who was responsible for that particular job.

All they really knew was that they didn’t have much time. If they drove away with Hendery, Ten and Sicheng would likely never see him again, which was why they had to hurry.

Sicheng was mildly annoyed at Hendery for getting them into this, but he understood the sentiment; he was sure that Hendery had simply misunderstood his place in their group, thinking that Sicheng and Ten would leave him to be dragged home, after all that had happened.

They had debated calling Kun and his crew for help, but both of them agreed that, given the scale of this situation, it would be wildly out of Kun’s sphere of influence, and would only lead to more trouble for all of them.

Ten shrugged on his flowy red tunic, the fabric settling over his frame. It didn’t look as good as on the first night, but it had gotten two days of travel-wear since then, so Sicheng supposed that wasn’t a surprise. His eyes were naturally drawn to Ten’s wrist, where the tattoo had been. Now, there was nothing but a patch of slightly-off color.

He watched as Ten grabbed for final piece of his ensemble, that ugly leopard-print vest he had offered up to Sicheng as a towel the other day.

Ten pretended to flip his non-existent mane of hair—Ten’s hair was cropped close to his head—and gave Sicheng a wink. “You ready, cowboy?”

Sicheng heaved a sigh, because they still hadn’t talked about last night and Ten had apparently reverted back to his bravado. “I’m not, but that’s never mattered before.”

There was a moment in which Sicheng thought Ten might say something, opening his mouth and then closing it again. But Ten simply tied a strip of fabric around his head to fashion a bandana to complete his ensemble. In a moment, he seemed to transform from Sicheng’s tired, travel-weary companion to the mysterious stranger Sicheng had met that first night, complete with the enigmatic grin.

This time, though, he was on Sicheng’s side, no matter how unstable their relationship was at the moment. Ten held a fist out to bump with Sicheng’s. Sicheng humored him, if only because he might have been a little overly excited about the prospect of evading the Beijing police force.

Their knuckles touched, and Ten raised an amused eyebrow at Sicheng. “Alright, darling, let’s go get our boy.”

 

 

* * *

           

 

Sicheng was alone in the pilot’s seat of the drone, now parked a few blocks away from the motel, and he was getting increasingly sure that Ten had double-crossed him.

Why had he agreed to this plan? It gave Ten an easy escape route, and if Sicheng got arrested, Ten would get off scot-free; it wasn’t like Ten cared about Hendery anyway. Sicheng had been so stupid to place an iota of trust in him. The longer they waited, the more likely that Hendery would be flown away in the back of a cop car, never to be seen or heard from again.

Sicheng was debating whether he should get out of the drone when the passenger side opened, and his two companions piled inside, slamming the door shut quickly. Ten was panting, but gestured urgently at Sicheng, “Go, go, go!”

Sicheng complied, taking the drone into the sky quickly, adrenaline spiking the way it always did when he was able to drive the way he wanted to, fast and unconcerned with such restricting things as speed limits.

He pulled onto the highway and floored it, not slowing down until they had reached the outskirts of the city limits. “Why aren’t they following us? What the fuck did you do?”

He didn’t look at Hendery, but he could tell Ten was smiling by the tone of his voice. “I just provided a distraction. They were already arguing about something, and they didn’t have him cuffed. It was almost too easy.”

Hendery shrugged, and Sicheng could see that he was more than a little shaken, but seemed to be holding it together. “They were probably scared of my dad.”

Sicheng cocked his head. “Isn’t your dad, like, a businessman?”

Hendery looked away. “Well, yeah. But it’s complicated.”

“Whatever you did, Ten, it worked,” Sicheng said, disbelieving. “They’re not behind us. Why aren’t they…?”

But Ten was grinning at Sicheng like a madman, and Hendery was alive and whole at his side. Despite himself, Sicheng smiled back.

Something definitely wasn’t right, here, about the lack of a police detail in their wake, the ease of the escape, but right now, he was too relieved to care.  

Hendery huffed. “Why didn’t you just let me do this? I was trying to help.”

Sicheng paused, biting his lip as he changed lanes. “Yeah, I know. But we aren’t going to leave you behind. Not now.”

There was a long silence. “Oh,” Hendery said, sounding surprised. A few beats passed as Hendery formed the words carefully. “I thought you didn’t want me here.”

Sicheng snorted. “Please, kid, why else would I be doing this?”

Ten’s head turned sharply to stare at him, the smile frozen on his face, no longer soft but icy and shrewd. “An excellent question.”

Sicheng raised an eyebrow at him, defiant, and Ten narrowed his eyes. The dull droning of the engine was the only sound in the cabin.  

The tentative trust they had formed, the unifying goal of rescuing Hendery--it had all disappeared in an instant, and suddenly they were back to being enemies, wary and guarded. The tense moment was interrupted only by Hendery’s whispered, “Thank you. Both of you. I really didn’t want to go back. But I thought… maybe it was for the best.”

Sicheng didn’t like that at all. Hendery, always so positive, so hopeful, sounded like he had given up, like he didn’t have any future. He opened his mouth to speak, but Ten beat him to it. “You’re not fucking going back to Hong-Kong, Hendery,” he said forcefully. “Promise me that you won’t, no matter what happens.”

Hendery was visibly taken aback by Ten’s sudden conviction, as was Sicheng. They had seen only glimpses of this side of Ten, and Sicheng had no idea what it was that ignited this kind of emotion in Ten. Maybe this was the real Ten, and everything else was just the shadow that had been left behind in whatever had happened to him. Or maybe he had always been more darkness than human.

Either way, this was not that. And it confused Sicheng all over again. Hendery said softly into the silence, “Okay. I won’t, Ten. I promise.”

It was strange. Almost like Hendery was saying it more for Ten’s benefit than anything, like he was calming a child. It didn’t sound like a lie, but as though he knew Ten needed to hear it more than Hendery needed to say it.

Sicheng was reminded again how good Hendery was with this stuff, so natural with emotion in a way that Sicheng simply wasn’t. He couldn’t imagine how Hendery could be so comfortable, how he managed to say exactly the right thing with seemingly no forethought, no hesitation, no awkwardness, navigating their tangled web with an ease that Sicheng envied.

He cleared his throat, clicking off his headlights as the dawn slowly shifted into full morning light. “We’re going to meet up with the others like we agreed,” Sicheng said, if only to fill the silence. “They’ll help us get across the border.”

Neither of them responded. Sicheng tried to focus on the horizon, on the buildings starting to get bigger and closer together, the dull suburban monotony turning high and bright as they neared the city proper.

Sicheng hadn’t been this uncertain since the beginning of their trip. They were nearly to their destination, now, and he wasn’t quite sure where any of them stood.

The sun shone against the skyscrapers in the distance, nearly blinding as Sicheng plotted a path through the heart of Beijing. He had never been here, never seen this city. It was so different from Hong-Kong, but all too similar at the same time. The place left the same bitter taste in Sicheng’s mouth, the same feeling of claustrophobia and confinement, even in the airspace above.

Sicheng didn’t know if it was a problem with the location or with him.

His stomach dropped as he thought about what was next. He didn’t want to take Ten and Hendery to Seoul. He wanted to fly this drone and the three of them in the opposite direction, far away from all of this.

But Sicheng had promises of his own to keep.

He trained his eyes on the horizon and didn’t look away.


	16. sink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit long, sorry. But thanks for sticking with me, if you're still here! We're starting to close in on the end.

Hendery stared out the window, watching as the city woke up.

He kept replaying that moment, in the back of the cop car, when he’d given up all hope. He couldn’t see anything but darkness ahead, every chance of escape truly gone for him. This adventure had been on borrowed time, anyway; he was never meant to be free, and the past few days had been a pipe dream, nothing more. He’d been so stupid to feel like he belonged with Ten and Sicheng. 

Then, the feeling in his chest when he’d seen Ten saunter up to the cops, clothing in disarray, speaking rapidly in a language that he didn’t recognize. Hendery had been so worried and so relieved all at once, but he’d felt something else beating against his rib cage, a feeling that was too big and bright to allow any credence to lest it overwhelm him.

Hendery had honestly thought that Ten and Sicheng would be happier without him. 

He’d watched as Ten pointed towards the back of the building, speech getting quicker and more distressed as the cops clearly didn’t understand. _What was he doing?_ This was dangerous; the police force here was not usually kind to foreigners, and certainly not very forgiving. They would ask for his information, soon enough, and he wouldn’t be able to provide it. 

Ten was urgent enough, however, that all of the officers had come over, looking at each other, alarmed. Even the one meant to be watching Hendery had gone over to investigate.

Ten seemed on the verge of tears, still speaking in that foreign language, and there was a moment when he made eye contact with Hendery, and Hendery suddenly understood what he was trying to do. 

Ten was beckoning the officers to follow him, and they seemed alarmed and confused enough to do it, forgetting all about Hendery, sitting alone and unrestrained in the back of their cruiser. They disappeared around the side of the building, off to some unknown location. Hendery didn’t hesitate to slide quietly out of the car, not wanting Ten’s gamble to go to waste.

But where was Sicheng? Where was Ten? He had no idea where he was supposed to go now, other than away from here. He didn’t want to leave Ten, either; what if the cops figured out what Ten was trying to do? What if they asked for Ten’s ID? They could arrest him, and then Hendery would be responsible for whatever happened to him; Hendery and his stupid, stupid decisions. 

 Just as he was about to be completely consumed by his panic spiral, Ten came sprinting around the side of the motel building faster than Hendery could react. Ten had to grab his arm to get him to run, and, heart pounding and adrenaline rushing through him, Hendery had, running after Ten as fast as he could, acutely aware of the fact that he could have a bullet in his back any second. 

And inexplicably, they had made it. Hendery hadn’t asked what Ten had done to make sure the cops didn’t follow them; it seemed impossible that they wouldn’t run after them, and even more impossible that they didn’t get once they had taken off in the drone. 

Hendery thought it was probably better not to ask. 

Sicheng was saying something. Hendery had missed it completely. “What?” 

“We’re here,” Sicheng said, and, yes, they were descending into a nearly empty parking lot. “Can you send Lucas a message?” 

 Ten reached across him. “I’ll do it.” 

Hendery just nodded, wishing that he could function normally in the face of crisis, for once in his life. It hadn’t even been a traumatizing event, per se, and he still felt like curling into a ball and sleeping for about a week.

Maybe he needed to work on his coping skills, moving forward. 

As it was, he leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, wishing he didn’t have to be in his own brain. 

 

* * *

 

 

They were in a small, friendly-looking diner, waiting for Lucas to show up. Ten had been ravenous, or so he’d said, so they had ordered coffee and steamed buns to eat while they waited. 

They were all quiet, an odd mood having settled over the group after the events of the morning. It didn’t help that Ten and Sicheng were still tense around each other after whatever had happened last night; Hendery didn’t have the emotional energy to play mediator right now. 

Ten finished chewing a bun and said, “So we’re almost to Seoul.” 

The words settled over the table like a heavy snow. Hendery picked at the food on his plate, not very hungry. Sicheng cautiously answered, “Yeah.” 

Hendery wasn’t looking at either of them, but he heard the tone of Ten’s voice shift as he said, “Hendery, I don’t think you should come.” 

Sicheng and Hendery both stared at him. “What?” 

Ten held up a hand. “I’ve thought about this a lot, and… if you really want to try to make it in the entertainment industry, I can’t help you.” 

“Why not?” Hendery squinted at him.

“Because it’ll ruin your life,” Ten answered, for once completely serious. He paused, pursing his lips. “I would know.” 

“I don’t know what exactly you think I have to lose,” grumbled Hendery, before Ten’s statement fully sunk in. “Wait, what did you say?” 

Ten was silent, going back to the food on his plate, apparently done. Hendery looked at Sicheng for help; Sicheng simply cocked his head, gaze not wavering from Ten over his cup of coffee. He didn’t look surprised, only like he was thinking hard. Sicheng murmured quietly, “Why now?” 

The only sounds were the bustle of the diner, pots clanging in the kitchen and waitresses chatting with each other behind the counter. Ten was quiet for so long that Hendery thought he might not have heard Winwin’s question, but finally, still staring down at his plate, he muttered, “I don’t want Hendery making the same mistakes I did.” 

Ten was revealing things about himself, little by little, and it made Hendery want to know more, want to keep asking questions. But he wouldn't push; he knew it would just make Ten shut down and draw into himself again. It had clearly taken a lot for Ten to reveal this much, and Hendery was glad that he had. 

Hendery swallowed. “Ten, I… thank you. But I can make my own choices. I’m not afraid.” 

Ten’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as he blinked quickly, still not looking at either of them. “You should be. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” 

Hendery almost laughed, a little hysterical at the implication that anything could be worse than his birthright. If only they knew. Now that they were sharing secrets, though, he didn’t know what was stopping him. Resolved, he lowered his voice. “I… I need to tell you something. About my family.” 

Sicheng finally looked away from Ten, gaze snapping to Hendery. He wore the most peculiar expression, cold in a way that Hendery hadn’t seen from him. It scared him, a little, and he wondered once again if Sicheng had secrets of his own. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, a tall shadow fell over the table. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Lucas slumped down in the seat next to Ten, startling them all. 

He ran a hand through his bedraggled hair, looking a little worse for wear. He had bags under his eyes and he was currently stifling a yawn, but he still managed a tired smile, clapping his hands together once. “Right!” 

“How are you?” Hendery asked politely.  

“I’m great,” Lucas was in the process of pouring himself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table, staring down at the steaming liquid like it was worth the entire world to him. “Didn’t get much sleep.” 

“Oh?” Ten nudged him, suggestive grin spreading across his face. “You finally seal the deal with Mr. Officer Man?”             

“What?” Lucas looked slightly confused, but also more than a little impatient as he attempted a sip of the scalding hot coffee and grimaced as he burned himself, but then proceeded to go in for another. “Guys, this is important. You need to listen to me.”       

Lucas leaned in over the table, lowering his voice as he continued. “My crew and I? We aren’t here only as your escort slash repair team, right?

He looked at them as if this should be obvious. Sicheng eyed him nervously, not sure what was coming and if they were going to need to make a hasty exit. Despite his better judgment, he really liked Lucas and his friends, though.  “Okay? So what are you here for?”            

Lucas wrinkled his nose. “Well, it’s a little…” He glanced around; the only other people in this diner were the waitress and a couple of old men reading newspapers. “We were trying to get information.”             

Ten was tense next to Lucas. Their eyes met across the table, and Sicheng knew that they were thinking the same thing. Ten said, voice barely above a whisper, “About what?” 

Taking a bun from the center of the table, Lucas gestured in Hendery’s direction. “About the owner of that vehicle you stole.”            

Now Hendery was just as tense as the other two. “Why would you want to know about them?”            

Time seemed to move slowly. It was like all three of them were waiting for a bomb to go off. Lucas, seeming oblivious, powered on. “Well, the dude has his hands in half of China’s criminal enterprises, so we have some conflicts of interest.”            

Sicheng watched Ten’s face carefully for a reaction. Poker-faced, as always. The only problem was that Ten was also watching Sicheng, and he didn’t seem to like what he saw, if the slight narrowing of his eyes was any indication. Their eyes met across the table, and Ten challenged him with a small lift of one eyebrow.            

This game was quickly becoming higher stakes than Sicheng had a taste for. Unfortunately, neither of them seemed close to folding; in fact, Sicheng was worried that he might like it a little too much.            

Hendery, sitting rigid and anxious next to him, didn’t deserve to be a part of this, but he had gotten very unlucky by being born into it, it seemed. He was glancing worriedly at Sicheng, but Sicheng didn’t want to say anything with Lucas there. Instead, he felt for Hendery's wrist under the table and circled it with his fingers gently, wanting to reassure him. 

Lucas continued, “We’ve been scanning the sky for any drones coming through our district, trying to figure out the pattern. It wasn’t just luck I found you the other night. This dude has been using our mountains as a path for smuggling for years now. Ends up poaching a lot of our best racers.” 

Sicheng nodded. “That makes sense. You have to know what you’re doing to get through the area. Most cops don’t risk it. It's a good strategy.” 

Lucas made a noise of affirmation, pointing at Sicheng as he chewed and swallowed a piece of steamed bun that Hendery had put on his plate. “We kinda thought you might have been one of them, especially in a drone registered to the man himself. Wong Han. Ballsy of you to steal, might I add.”

He tipped an imaginary hat at Hendery, who looked like he was about to faint. “Anyway. We were in Beijing last night trying to figure out what happened to our people. We barely have any decent drivers left, so the viewers are losing interest.” 

“And you’re not making money,” Sicheng guessed. 

Lucas scrunched his nose bashfully. “True. But not the only reason we’re doing this.” He leaned forward. “We really want to help you. But there’s a rumor going around that Wong Han’s own kid was the one that stole the drone. Now, I know that this couldn’t possibly be true…” Lucas said this part slowly, looking directly at Hendery. “Because if it was… it’s a bit dangerous for us mortals to get involved with. I know what this guy is capable of, and if his only son really did run away, he's not going to stop looking.” 

Hendery closed his eyes and put his hands over his face. This was bad, for all of them; if Lucas and his friends had gotten this information from a single night of asking around in Beijing, he shivered to think what a more adept entity could accomplish, whether that be an angry crime boss father or law enforcement. 

Ten finally broke the silence, looking so oddly small next to Lucas, the largeness of his personality not quite filling the space around him like it usually did. “We’ll be out of the country within a couple of hours.”

“Thank you,” Sicheng said, earnest. Lucas letting them know that this information was out there was potentially life-saving, at this point; they had a better idea of what they were facing, and they could figure out how to navigate around it. “You’ve done more than enough to help us. No hard feelings. This is a lot more risk than you bargained for.”            

Lucas tilted his head, smiling. “Ah, what’s a little risk? It's always fun sending a 'fuck you' in the direction of law enforcement,” He paused to look at his interface, typing something out quickly. “My boys are all on board, of course. We’ll make sure you get out of here in one piece.”

Such brave people, Sicheng thought. He felt a twinge of guilt, which he promptly suppressed. He couldn't afford to think like that right now. 

           

 

* * *

 

 

 

The three of them having piled back in the drone, Ten was sound asleep. 

He had passed out quickly, having been out and about nearly half the night before and woken up first out of any of them this morning; it was possible that he hadn’t slept at all, for that matter.          

Sicheng had driven them in silence towards the coastline, away from Beijing, the car fueled and checked thoroughly for problems. Now, they were following behind Lucas and Kun in the police car. When they reached customs, they got into line with all of the other drones, mostly traders in big trucks that looked like they could barely lift off the ground, much less stay aloft.

If Sicheng was nervous, Hendery couldn't tell. Maybe he was hiding it well, or maybe he really wasn't too concerned; they weren’t technically driving a stolen drone now. And it was a lot easier getting out of the country than getting back in. This checkpoint was more about deterrence than anything, it seemed; there were so few passengers drones trying to leave. The advantage of this was that within a few miles of flight over the ocean, they would be outside of Chinese jurisdiction, and they wouldn't be at risk of arrest. 

Hendery had heard of days when people passed between countries relatively freely, like borders meant little, but those days were long over; nations were very much isolated entities, with very little communication, so immigration was becoming increasingly uncommon. One of the many reasons that Ten's mysterious and complicated history was so intriguing. 

Hopefully, with Kun’s help and a bit of creativity, they wouldn’t be thrown in jail in the next twenty minutes. 

Leaning against the window, face relaxed in sleep, Ten looked young and somewhat ethereal with his skin lit up by the bright mid-morning sunshine.

He didn’t look one bit the dangerous villain that he had been just days before in Hendery's head, nor the alluring stripper that he'd been before that. It was strange; Ten seemed to shed personas like a snake shed its skin, picking and choosing what role to play as it suited him, but never sticking with one for too long. Hendery didn't know whether it was a survival tactic or simply a facet of Ten's personality. 

Hendery liked to think he understood Sicheng a little bit better. Sometimes, instead of the road, he watched Sicheng, jaw set, determined and debonair like an action hero in an old movie as he piloted the car. Like... James Dean, mused Hendery. Maybe without the tragic demise. 

He knew that he'd been onto something, pirating all of those American films back in high school. It gave his sad, hopeless-romantic brain some great metaphor material as he pined for pretty boys. 

Sicheng said quietly, so as not to wake Ten, “Look, there’s the water.” He pointed ahead, and yes, Hendery could see a glimpse of glimmering ocean through the tall buildings. His voice was a little wistful as he added, “I wish we had time to go swimming.”

Hendery couldn’t help but grin, turning away so he wouldn’t see. As cool as Sicheng acted, he was a kid at heart with certain things. “Did you swim a lot, back home?”

Sicheng smiled fondly. “Yeah, there was a lake, not far from my hometown. Well, not really a lake, I guess, but that’s what we called it. When I was a kid, we went all the time in the summer.”           

Hendery cocked his head, imagining it. “That sounds so fun,” he answered. “I’ve only ever gone swimming inside.”           

Sicheng wrinkled his nose. “Ugh, chlorine. We had to do diving practice once at the Academy in a pool. It was so gross. I don’t know how people swim in that stuff.” 

“Yeah, well, there aren’t a lot of lakes in the middle of Hong-Kong, Sicheng,” Hendery said dryly.           

This elicited a light laugh from Sicheng. “Sorry, sorry,” he responded. “But we’ll have to go, right? I’m telling you, it’s the best.”       

“Let’s do it,” Hendery agreed, Sicheng’s excitement rubbing off on him. The past few days had been so serious; it felt good to be silly and whimsical for a moment. “Let’s forget all about this whole business and just go swimming instead.”           

Sicheng snorted. “Imagine if Ten woke up and we had landed somewhere and we just…”         

Hendery felt the laughter bubble in his chest as Sicheng cut off, giggling. “And we just tell him, ‘Hey Ten, we’re at the beach!’”           

And maybe it was the stress of the trip, because it surely wasn’t that funny, but they were both laughing now, trying to stay quiet so they didn’t wake up Ten. Sicheng whispered in between peals of laughter, “Imagine his face!”           

It was such a ridiculous scenario that it took them a while to calm down. When they did, though, Hendery had a sobering thought, looking over at Sicheng in curiosity. “What will you do? After we get to Seoul?”           

Sicheng glanced at him. “I don’t know yet. I guess I’ll… figure it out when we get to it.”

Hendery watched his face closely for any sign of discomfort as he hesitantly posited, “You could… stay, you know. In Korea. I’m sure there’s work there for you. It could be a fresh start for all of us.”

There was genuine thoughtfulness in Sicheng’s voice as he carefully answered, “I could. I think… it depends on a lot of factors.”

“Of course,” Hendery said quickly. “Obviously. I’m just saying… maybe you should think about it.”

He wondered why Sicheng hadn’t said anything about the revelation that Hendery’s father wasn’t simply some wealthy businessman. It was eating away at him, and he knew that if he didn’t say something now, he would never find the courage. “I wanted to tell you. About my family.” 

If Sicheng had any reaction to this statement, he didn’t show it on his face, calm and composed as ever. “It doesn’t change anything,” he murmured. “It just makes even more sense now, why you’re so eager to get away. You would inherit the family business, right?” 

Hendery watched as the line moved, slowly, ahead of them. “I come from a long line of people that hurt others for profit. Not personally, but... My father gives orders to do horrible things. The amount of pain my family’s work has caused…” He looked at his hands. “I could never be responsible for that.” 

Sicheng was quiet for a while. Then he said, “You’re a better man than I am.” 

That threw Hendery off. “You’re wrong,” he answered, bewildered. “I’ve only known you for a few days, and even I not that’s not true.” 

Sicheng seemed far away, a bitter smile on his lips as he responded, “Maybe I’m better around you.” 

“Where is this coming from?” Hendery demanded. “What is it?” 

Sicheng still wasn’t looking at him, staring straight ahead with his hands on wheels, mechanical in his movements. “Nothing,” he said. “Just tired, I guess.”

Hendery stilled, frustration evaporating. “Yeah, I know,” he sighed. “Me too.” 

Sicheng glanced over at him. “Are you… what do you think about what Ten said? You still want to try to find work in Seoul?” 

Anxiety spiked through Hendery’s entire body as he thought about it. “I don’t know. I don’t really have another option. I don’t have a backup plan.” 

Sicheng pressed his lips together. “You’re only nineteen,” he said. “You have time to figure it out.” 

“Says the pilot,” Hendery answered sullenly. “You had to start training at, what, sixteen?” A nod. “And besides, if he wanted to, my father could have me killed at any time. No matter where I go, it’ll always be a possibility. I’ll always have to look over my shoulder.” Hendery’s chest was heavy, thinking about a life spent on the run, never feeling truly safe. “At least in Seoul, I’ll have a purpose.” 

Sicheng seemed like he was going to say something, but thought better of it, gaze lingering on Hendery’s face. Hendery looked back at him, wondering what he was thinking; Sicheng could be as elusive with his inner workings as Ten sometimes. It was clear, however, that he was struggling with something. Hendery’s voice was as soft and nonthreatening as he could make it when he asked, “Sicheng, are you okay?” 

Sicheng’s expression darkened, a wall coming down for an instant, and Hendery felt a distinct shift in the air between them, something lingering and unpleasant that made his stomach drop, like right before a thunderstorm, when the sky became strange and the atmosphere took on an odd color and nothing was quite right. 

And then everything was normal again. Sicheng cleared his throat, and smiled a tiny smile, in that way that made him look young and innocent. Hendery was beginning to think that Sicheng knew that. “Yeah. I’m just worried about you.” 

Hendery swallowed, turning away. “Okay.”

They were silent for only a few moments when Ten sighed loudly, stretching his arms as he woke up. He blinked at the bright sunlight outside. "Fuck." 

"Good morning," Sicheng said. "Your hair looks great." 

Ten glared at him as his hands flew to his hair, attempting to smooth out the odd ruffles put there by sleep. "Why, thank you, dear." 

Hendery laughed as Ten proceeded to make it worse. "Hold on, let me do it," he said, reaching out to fix it for him. "Did you sleep well?" 

"Well enough," Ten answered, and Hendery deemed his hair mostly normal, his work done. "I must have been dreaming, but I could have sworn I heard you threatening to take me to the beach."

Hendery shared a look with Sicheng, who was trying his best not to smile. "Huh. What a weird dream." 

Ten raised an eyebrow at them skeptically. "Yeah, it was." 

They moved up another space in line, getting close to the customs booth. Hendery saw Lucas turn around in the passenger seat of Kun's car and give them a thumbs up. 

Sicheng was saying something to Ten responded with something snide, but Hendery was watching with concern as Kun leaned out the window and started talking to a customs agent, all business, in his uniform and everything. 

"Guys," Hendery said. Sicheng and Ten kept bickering, oblivious to the fact that Lucas and Kun had guns pulled on the customs agents up ahead. "Guys!" 

The other two finally looked up, just as Yangyang and Xiaojun popped up from the back seat, visible through a back window, until that moment having been out of sight. They were dressed like bank robbers, in ski masks and brandishing their own weapons. Sicheng said, "What the hell?" 

Kun was speaking very animatedly to the customs agent, but he didn't seem to be acting like the aggressor here. In fact, the customs agent seemed oddly worried about... Kun...

"Oh my God," Hendery muttered, squinting at Yangyang as he brandished a knife somewhat melodramatically in Kun's direction, gesturing ahead at the gates keeping them here. "This might sound crazy, but I think they're staging a hostage situation. They're pretending to be hostages."

Ten made a noise of utter disbelief. "They couldn't have warned us that this was their plan?" 

"We wouldn't have agreed to it," Sicheng answered, voice low, shaking his head. "For good reason." 

"These people are insane," Hendery's eyes were wide, just as the gate up ahead started opening for them. "Actually insane." 

"Guess we are, too," Sicheng sighed, watching as Kun peeled out, shooting past the gates and out of sight.

He gave them a rueful smile, then floored it, getting through just in the nick of time before the gates closed behind them. The alarms blaring in their wake faded out to the sound of Xiaojun and Yangyang screaming and hooting in celebration out the window before they were yanked back inside the drone by Lucas.

The ocean spread endlessly before them, dizzying at their height, the sun's glare against the water nearly blinding as they left China behind. 

Sicheng, a little breathless from adrenaline, remarked, "Would now be a good time to tell you that I'm not really a pilot?" 

As both Ten and Hendery started talking at once, he snickered. "Kidding. Ow! I said I was kidding!"

Ten leaned back into his seat after reaching across Hendery to punch Sicheng rather hard on the shoulder, huffing. "You're such a child."

Sicheng stuck his tongue out petulantly when Ten wasn't looking. 

Hendery didn't try to hide his smile, feeling as light as air as they hurtled away from the place he'd called home for nineteen years. "We're really going," he said, elated and a little overwhelmed. 

"We're really going," Ten repeated, voice slightly strained, and wrapped an arm around Hendery's middle, pulling him closer with a small smile. Hendery relaxed into his side comfortably. How things had changed in just a few days. 

When he looked back at Ten, though, his eyes were shut hard, and his hands were shaking almost imperceptibly. Not wanting to distract Sicheng or draw unwanted attention to Ten, Hendery quietly pressed his hand against Ten's heart, feeling his heartbeat racing through the thin material of Ten's shirt, and applied a steady pressure. Ten opened his eyes, confused, but Hendery met his eyes without comment, secure in the knowledge that Ten could shove him off if he really wanted to. 

This had always helped Hendery's anxiety, when he was feeling like he had a hole in his chest that nothing but human touch could fill, and he hypothesized it might help Ten, too. Sure enough, within a minute or so, Hendery felt Ten's heartbeat slow and Ten's hand cover his. Ten wasn't looking at him, having shut his eyes again against whatever demons he was facing. But the hand gently squeezing Hendery's said enough. 

When Hendery finally looked around, Sicheng was watching them. He gave Hendery a questioning look, nodding at Ten in a silent,  _Is he okay?_

Hendery shrugged and shook his head. He didn't know. Whatever Ten was scared of, which also seemed to be the _only_ thing Ten was scared of, they were currently flying towards it at high speed. 

Whatever Ten was facing, and whatever Sicheng was hiding, Hendery knew with certainty that he was going to stick by these two as long as they wanted him. He'd been deluding himself thinking that he could be the first to say goodbye; he'd tried once already, and he couldn't do it. Even if sticking around was ultimately going to be painful, it wasn't in Hendery's nature to walk away from the people he cared about, especially when they were hurting. 

And care he did. 

As free as he felt right now, with Ten and Sicheng safe and at his side, he knew that there was nowhere but down to go from here, and that the descent would likely destroy him. He supposed that was just the price of his escape, for how good he felt now, for the first time in his life. He'd never had anything to lose before. 

He'd hold onto it for as long as he could. 

As the drone flew high above the surface of the ocean, Hendery stared at the violent waves far below and tried to imagine what it would be like to sink. 


	17. fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so quick disclaimer. Given the current political tensions in Hong-Kong, I feel the need to say that this work is in no way meant to be social commentary specifically about the modern-day, real-world Chinese government. The setting was inspired by the Take Off mv, and it's meant to be set in the not-too-distant future; if there's social commentary, it's more about the general economic/social inequality in the world. It's set in China due only to the fact that the majority of our WayV boys are Chinese. I just wanted to clarify, as tensions are very high in Hong-Kong at the moment and that's not something to be taken lightly, and certainly not something I'm qualified to comment on critically through a medium like fanfiction.
> 
> Also: Congrats to Amber Liu for finally leaving SM after wanting to for literal years. She's in this chapter, so it's kinda relevant. I'm just really happy for her.

Sicheng’s hair clung to his forehead, sweat dripping down his neck. The sun was setting over the sleepy suburban town, the view of the all of the houses below lovely from their clifftop vantage point, but the heat was still nearly unbearable, the air humid and thick.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” He muttered to Ten, who was messing with some controls on his interface. He was maybe a little cranky, he acknowledged, but this detour hadn’t been his idea, and he’d already spent the day driving, and on top of that, he was pretty sure he had been brought out here exclusively to cook in the summer Korean sun.

“Yes,” Ten answered haughtily. “And don’t get snippy with me, pilot man, we all agreed we were okay with this.”

“I didn’t think it would involve waiting around for an hour while we slowly die of heat stroke,” Sicheng said.

Ten snapped, “If you had heat stroke, you wouldn’t be complaining this much.”

Hendery returned from inside the drone, two bottles of water in hand. He was sweating just as much as the other two, but he seemed in better spirits than he had this morning, handing them each a bottle with a smile before hopping up onto the nose of the drone. “How about we don’t wish heat stroke on one other and instead work on staying hydrated?”

Sicheng sighed, but obediently took a sip of water. To be fair, it did make him feel a bit better. “How much longer should we wait before we give up on this?”

“Hmm,” Hendery mused. “Thirty minutes? We could call Yangyang,” he added, a bit hopefully. Hendery and Yangyang had taken to each other quickly, bonding easily over a handful of shared interests and their similarly positive personalities.

“We don’t need to call anyone,” Ten said, scrubbing a hand over his face and not looking up from the interface. “Just give it a minute, and if nobody shows up, we’ll go.”

Ten sounded tired in way he didn’t ordinarily, in a way that was concerning enough for Sicheng’s irritation to dissipate slightly. “Okay,” he responded, taking a seat beside Hendery. “Fine.”

Hendery nudged Sicheng’s knee slightly with his own, accompanied with a small smile. That also managed to make Sicheng feel a little better; Hendery was so pretty when he smiled, and Sicheng was only human. He ducked his head, feeling an inexplicable blush coming on.

He hoped Hendery didn’t notice. He _really_ hoped Ten didn’t notice—he’d never hear the end of it. He hadn’t been this easy to fluster since he was a teenager. Dear God. He cleared his throat, holding the water bottle out towards Hendery blindly. “You need water, too, kid.”

When the bottle didn’t move from his hands, he looked over, only to find Hendery staring at him, eyes full of something between confusion and irritation. After a moment, he grabbed the bottle from Sicheng and took a sip, handing it back without a word. Sicheng wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong.

Before he could examine that further, Ten said, “Look.”

At first, Sicheng didn’t see anything, and he was about to ask Ten for clarification when heard the familiar thrum of a drone’s engine, and his eyes snapped to the two machines, one bright yellow and the other a dark, rich shade of green, coming fast around a bend in the terrain maybe fifty meters below them, driving the treacherously narrow space between the cliffside and the town at breakneck speeds.

And despite the knowledge that it was incredibly dangerous, Sicheng did feel a little compelled to try it.

Ten was saying, squinting at the race happening below, “Is this legal?”

“Absolutely not,” Sicheng answered, with a small laugh. “I guess you can get away with a lot in the suburbs, no matter what country you’re in.”

“Hmm,” said Hendery thoughtfully. “Can you see… it’s hard to see from this far up, but do you see those people over there? Down to our right?”

Sicheng looked, and he did indeed, a small group of people and cars camped out on either side of the road at a point where the space widened. “So it’s a drag race.”

Ten sighed impatiently. “Why the hell would they ask us to come here?”

They all watched as, with a sudden burst of speed, the yellow hover car pulled ahead of the other, drifting dangerously close to the cliffside and across what now was obviously an improvised finish line. Sicheng said, trying not to sound as gleeful as he felt, “Guess we’ll have to go down there to find out.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I was wondering when you guys would finally come visit me,” the driver exclaimed at Kun and Lucas. “And you picked up some more strays, I see.”

           

“Yangyang, Xiaojun,” Kun introduced, gesturing at each of them. “Guys, this is who Lucas can't shut up about.”

           

“So you finally got your shit together?” the driver responded with a laugh. “Adopting kids already?”

           

“Oh, shut up,” Kun grinned fondly, rolling his eyes, but he didn’t seem as annoyed with the teasing as he usually did.

           

They finally seemed to realize that Ten, Sicheng, and Hendery were there, having parked a ways away and sidled up on foot just in case this little get-together attracted the attention of the police.

           

“This is the best drone racer in the world right here,” Lucas explained with a conspiratorial smile, gesturing at the individual currently with their head stuck inside a drone’s cockpit. “Guys, this is Liu.”

           

“Uh… hi,” Sicheng said blankly. “Winwin. Nice to meet you.”

           

The driver turned around, and they saw now that it was a woman, small and short-haired. “Hiya,” she said in lightly accented Mandarin. “You can call me Amber, if you want. That’s my given name. And Winwin? That’s definitely a racer name.”

           

“We’ve been trying to convince him,” Lucas said with a dramatic sigh, shrugging.

           

Immediately, Ten started talking, in a language that definitely wasn’t Mandarin. Sicheng elbowed him. “What are you doing?”

           

But she only laughed, not offended. “Yeah, you’re right, man,” she said to Ten. “My accent is pretty strong, huh?”

           

Ten smiled, seemingly put at ease by this small interaction. “No, I’ve just spent my fair share of time around Americans. My name’s Ten.”

           

Liu cocked her head at Ten. “I’ve heard of you.”

           

Ten was silent for a conspicuously long moment, and then said something in English that Sicheng didn’t quite catch, to which Liu nodded and responded in kind.

           

Hendery looked at Sicheng, mouthing _What?_ , a bewildered expression on his face, at both the information and the level of trust he was already displaying with this random woman compared to how he’d behaved with them.

           

Sicheng shrugged, as mystified as Hendery, and tried to get Kun’s attention, who was talking with Yangyang over by the cars, along with the losing driver, who didn’t seem to be feeling too bad about themselves.

 

Liu seemed very easy-going, sweaty but relaxed, as if she hadn’t just been performing death-defying drone maneuvers fifteen minutes prior. Giving up on Kun, he asked, “So… how do you know each other?”  
           

She wiped at her brow with the same rag that Sicheng had seen her wipe engine grease from her hands with, and responded airily, “Oh, I’ve been around.”

           

“Aww, that’s a nice way to say jail,” Lucas grinned.

           

“It was just holding,” she protested, but it was in the same ribbing tone. She turned back to Sicheng. “Yeah, I’ve been traveling for a long time for races. There was a bust at an event in the middle of China somewhere. Lucas got dragged to the police station, too, and managed to smooth-talk us both out of it.”

           

“She’s a professional,” Lucas explained proudly. “Like I said, one of the best.”

           

“There are professional drag racers?” Hendery asked in disbelief.

           

“There are indeed,” Amber said. “It’s not the most risk-free career, but you can’t beat the flexibility.”

           

“How do you not get caught?” Ten inquired.

           

Amber laughed. “I mean, I can’t say it hasn’t happened, but… it’s amazing what people can choose to ignore when it’s generating money for them and their town. And anyway, almost all of the locations along a typical racing circuit are chosen because they already have a network of people that can help ensure everything runs smoothly and nobody gets arrested.” She gestured at Lucas. “Whether that be mechanics or rich racing fans or cops.”

           

“It’s a good thing for everyone,” Lucas agreed. “The kind of races Amber competes in are usually broadcasted internationally.”

           

“That’s possible?” Sicheng asked sharply.

           

“Of course it’s possible,” Lucas answered with an easy smile. “People get to see other parts of the world, and cool cars going fast, and people like Amber get paid the big bucks in donations and advertising.”

           

“Not the big bucks,” said Amber dryly. “ _Really_ not the big bucks. But yeah, enough to get by. And I get to travel. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

           

“Wow,” said Hendery softly.

           

“This was just a practice race,” she said, after a moment, looking at Sicheng. “But if y’all have time, the real race is tonight. Lots of folks are showing up for it. Should be really fun. Stick around and check it out, if you’re interested.”

           

Sicheng was, in fact, interested, but they had a timetable to worry about, so he shook he head regretfully. “That’s sounds great, but we’re kind of in a hurry. We’ll be leaving town tonight.”

           

Ten said abruptly, “We could stay one more night, couldn’t we? We’re so close now that we’ll be in Seoul tomorrow. Might as well get a good night’s sleep before we go.”

           

 _W_ _hat?_ At least Sicheng wasn’t going crazy, because Hendery was also staring at Ten in disbelief. He was the one who had thus far been the most worried about time, the one who had been pushing them towards Seoul as fast as possible. Ten was acting very odd today.

           

After he had agreed earlier to Kun’s request that they met them here, Sicheng would almost think that Ten was stalling.

           

Although he didn’t know what was causing Ten’s sudden change of heart, he couldn’t complain; no matter what else was going on, Sicheng really wanted to see this race.

 

And maybe he wasn't too eager to reach Seoul, either. 

           

“Okay,” he said, and Amber gave him a friendly smile. “Then I guess we’ll be rooting for you.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was dark when they arrived back at the cliffside, apparently the best vantage point to view the race, but it was so crowded now that Sicheng barely recognized it.

           

At least it had cooled off, he thought, as he shouldered his way through countless people, Hendery following close behind, in search of Lucas, Yangyang, and Xiaojun. They lined the ravine, the only illumination being the headlights of drones and the many, many lights of individual interfaces that would broadcast to them the parts of the track they couldn’t see well from here.

           

The air was buzzing with excitement, a certain festive, celebratory atmosphere to the event, and Sicheng couldn’t help but let it seep into his own bones, feeling the adrenaline and anticipation palpably. Everyone was here to see Amber Liu race.

           

Ten was already up ahead, happily chatting with Kun, which… okay. It was a little frustrating, seeing Ten so personable with some people, given the way he’d behaved when they’d first met. Clearly, he could be friendly, he just chose not to with Sicheng. Which was fine. Whatever.

           

Hendery had been acting a little strange all evening. When he missed Sicheng’s words for what felt like the hundredth time, asking him to repeat himself, Sicheng finally asked, “What’s going on with you today?”

           

“Nothing,” he answered quickly, not meeting Sicheng’s eyes. “Why?”

           

Sicheng tried, “Did I do something wrong?”

           

“No,” Hendery laughed, but it didn’t sound genuine. “Of course not.”

           

Sicheng raised an eyebrow skeptically. “If I did, you can tell me. I promise I won’t be mad.”

           

Hendery rolled his eyes. “For the last time, I'm an adult, Sicheng.”

           

“I know,” Sicheng said, confused at the sudden topic change. “I was just…”

           

Hendery looked like he was holding himself back from speaking. After a moment, he finally broke and said, less confident than usual, “Do you think of me… as a friend?”

           

 _What?_ Now Sicheng was really confused.

“Well, yeah. Why?”

           

“No reason,” Hendery said quickly. “Really. It’s fine.”

           

Jesus Christ. It was like they were speaking totally different languages. Still bewildered, Sicheng tried to offer a smile, putting a hand on Hendery’s shoulder. “To be fair, I don’t have a whole lot of friends at the moment, so you’re pretty special.”

           

Hendery looked away and shrugged away from Sicheng’s touch. “Oh, look, it’s Lucas.”

 

Hendery had managed to spot Lucas’ tall form nearby; it was lucky, because there were enough people here that Sicheng hadn’t been sure that they would find each other. He had no idea that underground drone racing was so popular, but then again Amber seemed to be borderline famous.

           

They reached Lucas and Kun's group, the other boys having already settled in for the race. Xiaojun nodded downwards, pointing at his interface, and said, “They’re about to start.”

           

A hush seemed to fall over the crowd as the cars readied, barely visible down below; they would go in a large circle that would take them around the outskirts of town and down into the cliffs and back. Sicheng felt his heart clench with something that was too overwhelming to name, happiness and regret and desire all at once. The knowledge that this was what he could have been doing all of this time was a heavy truth.

           

But it was hard to think about the past when the interface screens in people’s hands were displaying a countdown from ten seconds, and the roar of the drones was audible even from the cliffs above as the two drivers revved their engines.

           

Sicheng felt his breath catch as the countdown got to zero, a flare fired, and the cars lifted off the ground and took off at almost impossible speeds, before the colorful trails of fire dissipated into the night air.

           

The smoke from the pyrotechnics lingered, the crowd cheering, and Sicheng felt a weight lift from his chest.

           

It was the feeling of possibility.

           

He glanced at Ten, at Hendery, and tried not to let himself hope. 

         

 

* * *

 

 

 

Ten knew he was being careless.

           

Careless, and so selfish—it wasn’t anything new, he supposed, but now it mattered more than ever. Here he was, fucking around in a club, when he needed to be in Seoul.

           

They had watched the silly race—it had proved a nice distraction, and Sicheng had enjoyed it, if current mood was any indication—then met up with Amber afterwards to celebrate her win, courtesy of Kun and Lucas. The party had been brought here, to what must have been the only club in this town, and obviously, Ten wasn't going to say no to a party. 

           

Hendery and Sicheng were on the dance floor, laughing as they moved together, occasionally stepping on each other’s feet. Ten watched, sipping on some sort of fruity drink, as Sicheng spun Hendery—less than elegantly, if Ten was honest, but at least they were having fun—and they both almost stumbled into the girl next to them in their laughter. It was strange, seeing them so carefree when they were usually running for their lives. 

           

He knew he should leave now, make his way as fast as he could to Seoul. But when he thought about, considered the sequence of events that he would trigger when he did, considered having to physically move his limbs in a direction that took him away from his impromptu travel companions—he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.

           

A lot of it was probably the paralyzing fear he’d felt pervading his entire being ever since they’d left China. Self-preservation. Guilt. Shame. The words had been seared into his mind since he’d received them as a message on his interface hours earlier: _Help. Please._

He hadn’t responded. He couldn’t even begin to formulate a response. 

             

But there was something else, too, and Ten was finding it harder and harder to ignore it the longer he spent here.

           

The past few days hadn’t been ideal, of course, but they had been better days than he’d had in a long time.

           

Hendery and Sicheng brought a certain comfort, an inexplicable trust that had him letting his guard down, a feeling like maybe he didn’t have to be watching his back at all times. He knew that was probably stupid, since they were strangers, and he’d known them for all of three days, but he wanted to trust them so badly.

           

Maybe he could let himself have one night.

           

He would leave in the morning, and then his fate would be sealed, but he would let himself have this.

           

Hendery appeared at his side, a little wobbly from dancing, as he slid into Ten’s space, and Ten soaked up his warmth, leaning into him and sliding an arm around his waist to help steady him. “Having fun?”

           

Hendery cocked his head, eyes taking on a mischievous glint. “It would be more fun if you joined us.”

           

Ten wanted to; he didn’t dance much anymore, and certainly not recreationally, so it was tempting. But the lights of the club, the dark corners, the taste of alcohol on his lips and the thump of the beat, brought to mind that night a few days ago, and he wasn’t sure he could stand it.

           

He remembered climbing onto Hendery’s lap, whispering lies into his ear, the bitter taste of cabernet, and that’s what caused him to shake his head, removing his arm from Hendery’s back, white-hot shame tightening around his throat like a vice. “I don’t really like dancing.”

           

Hendery gave him a confused look. “I know that’s not true. Come on, Ten,” he wheedled, reaching for Ten’s hands and tugging lightly. He lowered his voice, but his natural charisma came through more than ever, making him hard to ignore. “It’s been a difficult few days. Can’t we just… forget about everything, for a bit?”

           

Ten sighed, looking over at Sicheng, where he had stopped dancing to strain his neck to see over the crowd, appearing to find them in the busy room just as Ten saw him. They made eye contact, and Ten could see even from across the room that Sicheng had raised one eyebrow, gaze half invitation and half challenge.

           

Ten was the one to break the stare, but it was out of the frying pan and into the fire as Hendery tugged on his hands playfully, moving them back and forth to simulate dancing. Try as he might, Ten couldn’t help but be a little charmed, especially in the face of Hendery’s confident half-smile, his proximity forcing Ten to tilt his head up a little.

           

A short peal of laughter bubbled in his chest, unbidden, as Hendery wrapped an arm around his middle and made as if to dip him, at which point Ten dug his heels into the floor and used his free hand to slap at Hendery’s chest in protest. “Jesus, you’re strong. _Stop_ that, damn it, it’s not fair.”

           

Hendery laughed, too, relaxing his grip on Ten. “I guess those ballroom lessons did me some good.”

           

Ten was suddenly very aware of their position, and the way that Hendery’s arms felt around him, and laughed again, nervously, a little flustered now. “They did indeed.”

           

Hendery smiled, looking as ever like a Disney prince, and let go of him to extend his hand out for Ten to take, and Ten had to remind himself all the reasons why this was a bad idea.

           

Maybe it was the setting, the night, the panic threatening to overtake him constantly. But it was hard not to think of the past.

           

This was so much like the version of Hendery that had approached him that first night at the club, casually rich and swaggering and so completely self-assured in that way that one only could be when they had never in their life been told _no_.

           

Not like Ten had been allowed to. 

           

“Oh? And why me, darling?” Ten had said coquettishly, that night, batting his eyelashes, trying to ignore the boy’s friends as they hooted and wolf-whistled in the background.

             

Hendery had ducked his head, as if he was embarrassed—all an act, Ten had been sure—and gave him a sweet, dimpled smile that had most certainly been the cause of many a broken heart.

           

His response had sounded so earnest, which was part of the game, in Ten’s experience. “The way you move—it’s so beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. Your talent is wasted on this place.”

           

Ten had internally rolled his eyes at the line, attention catching instead on the shiny gold watch decorating the young man’s wrist, looking like it had cost more than a year worth of Ten’s paychecks. He thought about his empty apartment and his empty refrigerator, the thin mattress he slept on and the old, cracked interface that he always kept close to himself, as it was the one and only lifeline to the people he loved most because he couldn’t be there with them.                  

In that moment—to the sound of lewd jokes being thrown around by the boy’s friends on the other side of the room, who must have known full well that Ten could _hear them_ and not cared one bit, because _why would they?_ —nothing had seemed fair.

           

He had put one hand on Hendery’s chest, and leaned up to murmur to him, brushing his lips against an ear, as if on accident. “Let’s go someplace more private to talk.”

           

And that had been that.

           

It had been so clear, then, that Hendery’s pursuit had been an entirely superficial one, as was the case with all the customers at the club; they sold desire, after all, not romance, and Ten’s job had always been primarily to entice, to entertain. Hendery had been no different than the other entitled young men interested in Ten’s body, so, weeks later, when Ten had seen an opportunity to use that to his advantage, he had taken it without a second thought.

           

Now, it wasn’t so simple.

           

As they he could sense the conflict running circles tirelessly inside Ten’s head, Hendery said gently, “Ten,” and it was enough to bring him back to the present, Hendery a steady and pacifying presence in his space. He thought he would feel trapped, but he felt the opposite. 

          

And though he was so uncertain about everything, Ten knew he didn’t want to needlessly burden Hendery with all of this, not after everything else Ten had put him through. Hendery deserved so much more than what he had gotten in life, and he deserved much better people around him than Ten. “Is it bad that I sometimes wish you’d turned out to be an asshole?”

           

Hendery frowned, surprised at the sudden shift in topic. “What?”

           

“I’m glad it was you,” Ten continued, swallowing. Being honest about his feelings had never come easily to Ten. “Because now you’re here, and I like you being here. But I’m also sorry that it had to be. Does that make sense?”

           

“Ten, you know that I—what are you saying?”

           

“Nothing,” Ten laughed. “I’m probably a little drunk.” He was, in actuality, not anywhere close, and he was started to really regret that fact.

           

Hendery smiled warmly, though—he always did have a pretty smile—and plucked Ten’s drink out of his hand, finishing it in one gulp, clearly just being a flirtatious asshole for the sake of it. He made a face at the sweetness. “It’s no cabernet.”  

           

“No accounting for taste,” answered Ten automatically. Hendery made a show of rolling his eyes. Someone knocked into Ten's arm, swearing loudly in Korean, and Ten suddenly felt strange, dizzy and disoriented and like the whole world was _wrong_. Hendery must have thought it was the alcohol, but Ten didn’t correct him, just held onto Hendery’s forearms and closed his eyes until it passed. 

           

“Okay?” Hendery asked softly, and Ten desperately wanted to tell him the truth for a moment that he couldn’t account for, the real answer primed on his lips, before he came to his senses.

           

“Yeah,” Ten said, a bit louder than was strictly appropriate for the situation. “We should dance.”

           

“Are you sure you can?” Hendery’s brow was creased in worry.

           

“Yeah,” Ten lied. He just wanted to forget. “I’m sure.”

           

 

* * *

 

 

Sicheng hadn’t had this much fun in years.

 

He’d never had the time or money, not since he moved out of his parent’s house. It was weird, looking around at the demographic: remembering that he was twenty-one and a lot of people did nothing but party at this age. He felt like he’d been about forty since the age of sixteen, taking on a truly incredible amount of debt for the sake of his education, and all for what? Being responsible was not that fun, as it turned out. 

 

He was out of breath and laughing, Ten having finally joined them. Damn, he was good at this; it felt like Ten was showing up both of them for their clumsy flailing of limbs. Ten seemed to possess an intuitive knowledge of what to do, how to move with the music so that he looked like a natural part of the ecosystem, while everyone else in the room looked like drunk tourists. 

 

It was dark, the flashing lights making it hard to see each other. They lost Hendery, after a while, as he went off to talk to Yangyang about something, and there were people everywhere, but Ten was impossible to lose sight of, despite his height.

 

It was just the two of them now, in this crowd of people, and that felt a little dangerous, somehow. 

           

Sicheng noticed that the other club-goers were stealing glances, trying to be inconspicuous. He couldn’t help but feel a little rush of something, when Ten closed the tiny bit of space between them to put his arms around Sicheng’s neck, that all of these people were here and Ten was dancing with him. Ten didn’t seem to think anything of it, pressing their bodies together and getting lost in the pounding bass, both of them a little sticky from sweat.

           

This was the first and last time that they would dance together, probably. Tomorrow, they would be in Seoul. 

           

Sicheng didn’t want to think about that right now. He closed his eyes, and focused on the way that Ten’s waist felt under his hands, letting Ten take the lead.

 

It was easy to lose track of time, nothing but their bodies moving together. He felt a gentle hand on his cheek. Ten was looking at him, eyes searching, and the press of people around them didn’t seem to register all of a sudden. The music blared, still loud and intrusive, and when Ten’s lips met his, hard and almost combative, the beat gave Sicheng something to hold onto so that he didn’t lose his mind altogether as he kissed Ten back.

           

It hurt, a little, especially when Ten’s fingers on his neck started digging in, but Sicheng wasn’t complaining. It made sense that Ten’s kisses would hurt. It definitely wasn’t discouraging Sicheng from the activity.

           

It also wasn’t a particularly chaste interaction, what with Ten’s tongue in his mouth and hips grinding against hips. God, he wanted Ten.

           

Before they lost their minds any further, Sicheng pulled away, panting, but didn’t make any effort to extricate their limbs from one another, and Ten gave him a cocky smile, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to Sicheng. Ten kept swaying as if nothing had happened, and really, it didn’t feel as if anything out of the ordinary had occurred between them. They had been dancing around this inevitability for days now, unspoken, and they both knew it.

           

Maybe it didn’t mean anything. Hell if he knew what went on in Ten’s brain.

           

The song ended, and Sicheng’s ears rang. There was an odd silence for a moment, before someone cut through it with, “Ten?” and Sicheng expected to see Hendery, expected to blush and stutter through an explanation he didn’t even know why he felt compelled to give. In his peripheral vision, Ten’s head snapped up, too.

           

It wasn’t Hendery.

           

This was a stranger, and judging by Ten’s reaction, she was a stranger to him, as well, a young woman who began speaking in rapid-fire Korean.

 

Ten was holding onto Sicheng’s arm, hard, and before the woman said anything else, Ten almost knocked Sicheng over in his rapid exit. Sicheng spared the surprised-looking woman an apologetic glance before he followed, having trouble keeping a visual on him as he weaved through the crowd, not seeming to care who he shoved aside.

           

He passed near Hendery, who was sitting with Yangyang at the bar, drinking, and pointed in direction Ten had gone. Hendery nodded in understanding, and said something to Yangyang, before beginning to make his own way through the throng of people.

           

He just barely saw Ten pass through a door that, despite not being able to read Hangul, he was pretty sure based on context clues said, _Employees Only._ When he finally slipped through the door after Ten, it dumped him out into a plain stairwell that only seemed to lead to a kitchen area or up, several floors, by the looks of it.

           

“Ten?” he called, as loud as he dared. No answer, but this was not particularly surprising.

           

Praying that he wasn’t about to trespass into someone’s apartment, he took the steps up two at a time. His legs were burning by the time he reached the top, but couldn’t bring himself to care much right now. He needed to find Ten.

           

He pushed open the heavy metal door, and was surprised to find himself on the roof.

           

It was only a four story building, but it was high enough that the wind whipped around his face painfully as he stepped out into the cold night.

           

Ten was a few meters away, hands pressed, palms down, against the waist-level concrete barrier that lined the edge of the roof, a small measure of safety between Ten's body and the four-story drop. Either way, Sicheng wasn’t all that comfortable with the way that Ten was leaning over, staring over the edge like it was his answer.

           

As he approached, he could hear Ten’s breath coming in short, rapid inhales, his chest visibly rising and falling at the effort. A pack of cigarettes lay untouched on the ground near Ten’s feet, as if he had dropped them pulling them out of his pocket and didn’t have the wherewithal to pick them back up.

 

Not wanting to startle him, he tried saying, “Ten,” as quietly as he could with this wind, and Sicheng could tell that Ten heard him by the way his body stilled for just a moment.

           

He heard the door open again, and Hendery came to stand at Sicheng’s side, taking in the situation much more quickly than Sicheng had. Hendery moved to Ten’s side immediately, not touching him but instead standing a few paces along the concrete barrier from him, his posture open and non-threatening as he faced Ten.

           

He saw Hendery’s lips move, but he didn’t hear the words, the sound ripped away by the wind. Sicheng’s feet carried him closer without his brain telling them to, to stand at Ten’s other side, just in time to hear him say, “Please just go away.”

           

“We’re not going to do that,” Hendery said patiently, taking a small step closer. Ten’s eyes were glazed over as he stared down at the street below them. “We can help you.”

           

Sicheng watched him, watched the way that Ten was physically suppressing everything that he needed to say, everything that he felt, until his body couldn’t take anymore, bringing him here, where he was hyperventilating on a rooftop. He edged closer, until he was a few inches from Ten, facing out, not looking at him. “You don’t have to do this by yourself, Ten.”

           

With that, Ten slumped, just a fraction, and Sicheng knew that he was getting through, in some small capacity. He didn’t move as he asked, “Who was that woman, downstairs?”

           

“She wasn’t anyone,” Ten muttered in answer, agitated. “Just someone that knew the me from before.”

           

“And who was that?” Hendery asked gently, and Ten made a noise that was half-sob and half-snort.

           

“It doesn’t matter now!” His fists were clenched, knuckles white, against the cold concrete.

           

He cut off, closing his eyes, the wind ruffling his hair. “It doesn’t fucking matter.”

           

“What, anything?” Sicheng pressed, suddenly angry with Ten for some reason he couldn’t identify. “Nothing matters? You, me, Hendery, we’re just things that happened to you? None of it has mattered?”

           

On the other side of Ten, Hendery’s lips were pressed together, gaze sad and wistful, as Ten answered angrily, tears filling his eyes, “Of course it doesn’t matter, Sicheng! It doesn’t change anything.” He took a shaky breath. “My life hasn’t been my own since the day I signed that fucking contract.”

           

“It could be,” offered Hendery, simply, and damn, if he didn’t make it sound so easy. Sicheng was almost convinced himself.

           

Ten wiped at his face, almost violently, and grit out, “I thought… I thought I could do it, leave all of that behind. I thought everyone would just forget about me.”    
           

Ten was shivering now, although Sicheng couldn’t tell whether it was because he was cold or because he was having a panic attack.

           

“You… were a performer?” Sicheng guessed hesitantly, and Ten laughed choppily, bitter and unhappy.

           

“I was _famous_ ,” he said viciously, seeming to get some sort of satisfaction from loading the words with the most acidic self-loathing he could. “I got to dance. And all of the other shit was worth it. Until it wasn’t.”

           

He grimaced, before taking another shaky breath. “Because it wasn’t just me.”

           

Something that the three of them all had in common was that, for one reason or another, they were alone. Hendery’s family, Sicheng’s career choices, whatever the hell Ten had run from—all of it had led them to find companionship in each other, for better or for worse. Sicheng didn’t know whether the pros would ultimately outweigh the cons; the older he got, the more he realized that having connections, relationships, only served to make life more complicated. 

 

Ten had apparently learned that lesson that hard way.

 

“What happened?”

 

“We—we had a lot of responsibilities that didn’t involve… dancing.” Ten wasn’t looking at them. “The industry is all about money, you know, and a lot of that is pleasing wealthy donors. We were half-chosen just to be pretty accessories.”

 

“My job at the club wasn’t… that different,” he said. “But at least it was my choice. I had control.”  

           

They waited, silent, for Ten to continue. “It was fine, when it was me. I was an adult. It was just another thing I had to do. It felt worth it.”

           

His knuckles were going to be bloody with the force with which Ten was grinding them into the concrete. “But then I found out that they had the kids doing the same thing.”

           

Sicheng’s stomach lurched unpleasantly. “Kids?”

           

Ten continued like he didn’t hear Sicheng. “There was a big party. And my company was trying to impress these shitbag investors, big crime family. White collar mobsters, really.” The revulsion was thick in his voice as he said, “I guess they had unusual tastes.”

           

Sicheng didn’t like this story at all. Hendery looked similarly uneasy, and he caught Sicheng’s eyes; Sicheng knew that Hendery had known his fair share of unhappy stories _._ This was definitely one of those.

 

Ten said, “I wasn’t thinking. I walked in and it was just… instinct. The guy was at least twice Jisung’s age.”

           

He stared at the ground below, gaze blank. Sicheng held his breath and asked, “You… tried to stop it?”

           

Ten’s voice was completely devoid of emotion as he said matter-of-factly, “I didn’t _try_. I shot him.”

           

Sicheng’s own heart was beating fast, and he couldn’t hide a sharp inhale of surprise. He expected Hendery to be similarly shocked; he wasn’t. Hendery was perfectly still, listening to the story calmly, eyes dark with grim understanding, acceptance, like he had heard a hundred stories like it before, and Sicheng realized with a jolt that it was very possible that he had, with different people, different places. 

 

Sicheng suddenly felt like he’d come from a very different world from these two.

 

“The gun was right there, on the table. Guess he thought he wouldn’t need it while he was taking advantage of a fifteen-year-old.” There was no regret in Ten’s voice, only cold anger. “I realized how it would look for Jisung, and for the others. So I stuck around long enough for other people to see me with the gun, and then I left. Let them think that I had a nervous breakdown.”

 

Sicheng had always thought, growing up, that he had such a strong moral compass. As if he actually knew anything about right and wrong. He’d lived in a world where the distinction was easy. Neither Ten nor Hendery had grown up with that kind of luxury, it appeared.

 

Sicheng tried not to imagine it, the scene, but it was almost too gruesome to not play out in Sicheng’s mind eye, Ten making a show of his exit, gun in hand. He suppressed a shudder.

 

Ten swallowed. “I couldn’t go home. There was nothing there for me, anyway. And nobody knew me in Hong-Kong.”

           

There was a heavy silence. Finally, Hendery said, “People know you here. Amber. That woman downstairs.”

           

The implication was clear in his words: _so_ _meone will call the cops, and you won’t know about it until you’re being carted away in handcuffs._

           

“True,” Ten whispered. “My company... they tried to keep it quiet. It was bad press for them. But I know people talked. The public knows that something happened, just not exactly what.”

           

Hendery’s hand covered one of Ten’s clenched fists. “We have to leave. Why are we going towards Seoul? We have to get out of here.”

           

“I have—I have to make it up to them,” Ten murmured quietly, as if in a daze. “I have to get them out of there.”

           

Hendery was shaking his head. “How are you going to do that, Ten? You aren’t thinking—”

           

“They need me!” Ten pulled his fist out of Hendery’s grip, and Hendery took a startled step back. “I can’t just leave them.”

           

“Okay,” Hendery said placatingly. “Maybe we can think of something, but Ten, was your plan to just go charging in—”

           

“What if it was? I want to see my friends.”

           

Hendery’s eyes were wide. “That would be suicide, Ten! Their security could shoot you, claim it was self-defense. You won't get a lawyer that can defend you against a crime family. If you’re lucky, they’ll haul you off to prison somewhere for the rest of your life.”

           

“It doesn’t matter,” Ten said dismissively. “I don’t care.”

           

“Well, I do,” Hendery answered angrily, crossing his arms. “Who do you think you’re going to help that way? You don’t get to throw away your life like it’s nothing.”

           

Ten scoffed. “You don’t _own_ me. I can do what I want with my own life.”

           

“I wasn’t—” Hendery threw his arms in the air in indignation. “You know what, Ten? You’re right. You can do what you want, up to and including walking yourself into a prison cell. It’s not like my opinion matters at all to you.”

           

Ten flinched ever so slightly. “Hendery, don’t—”

           

Sicheng needed to intervene before this got out of hand. He needed to get a hold of himself, figure this out. He murmured to Hendery quietly, “Getting mad at him won’t help, you know it won’t.”

           

Hendery’s shoulders slumped, and he said, nearly inaudible over the wind and city noise, “I don’t want to lose you.”

           

This seemed to take the fight out of all of them with one fell swoop. He could see on Ten’s face that he hadn’t considered that Hendery genuinely cared for him, beyond a passing crush. Ten swallowed, and said, “You won’t, okay? I’ll be careful. I just—I have to do this.”

           

Hendery made a noise of miserable disbelief, and Sicheng watched as Ten’s fists carefully unclenched from the concrete and reached up to put his hands gently on Hendery’s face. He leaned in close and whispered something that Sicheng couldn’t hear, and Hendery’s fingers curled around the fabric of Ten’s shirt.

           

He suddenly felt like an intruder. This was an aspect of Ten and Hendery that Sicheng hadn’t picked up on, somehow; even though Sicheng had just made out with Ten not twenty minutes previously, this somehow felt far more intimate, like Sicheng had somehow missed integral moments in their relationship over the past few days.

           

He began to back up, feeling a pit in his stomach as he thought about the kiss. Sure, he hadn’t initiated it, but… it was starting to feel wildly out of line, for a variety of reasons that he didn’t want to delve into now.

           

This was all wrong. He’d been mistaken about a lot of things, and understanding was just now crystallizing, now that it was too late--

           

“Sicheng,” Hendery called suddenly. “Where are you going?”

           

Ten looked at him, too, and for what felt like the first time, there was no mistrust in his eyes. That was one of the worst things about it. Ten _trusted_ him. After all this time. He’d trusted Sicheng with his secrets and his fears, and now…

           

“I’m gonna head downstairs,” Sicheng said, attempting to sound casual.

           

“Why?” Hendery asked, just as Ten said, “Don’t.”

           

Hendery looked at Ten, then back at Sicheng. He appeared to want to speak, but then shut his mouth. After a moment, Hendery held one hand out to Sicheng, the other still bunched in the material of Ten’s shirt. “Stay. Please.”

     

Sicheng stared at the hand. This was… there were things he needed to say. Things he needed to tell them.

           

But Sicheng was a coward. He took Hendery’s hand, and stepped into their shared space.

           

Ten’s posture relaxed a little, as if he’d been afraid that Sicheng was going to leave. Hendery squeezed his hand. “Ten… thank you for telling us. We’ll figure out what to do. Together. Now that there are no secrets.”

  
           

Ten smiled a little, even if his face was still pale and his frame a little shaky. His eyes locked with Sicheng’s gratefully.

           

Sicheng looked away. 

 

There was no universe in which this could end happily. Not for Sicheng. Not now. He just hoped that he could shelter Ten and Hendery from the fallout as best as he could. 

 

He'd just never considered that he might not be the good guy in this after all. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *watches Tenwin's lovely choreo for the millionth time*


	18. interlude: relativity

Ten was, to be fair, a little tipsy.

He hadn’t meant to lose control. But he was emotionally exhausted, and alcohol was a good way to forget his problems, so here he was, several shots of soju deep from Amber’s friend’s liquor cabinet.

When Amber had offered her friend’s spare room, they had been reluctant; it seemed a little too trusting, given that they had only just met this woman. And she was also putting up the WayV boys, so it was a little crowded. But in the end, there were few inns in the area, and they didn’t have an endless source of cash to spend, so here they were.           

And something in Ten trusted Amber a lot.           

Ten vaguely knew he was a clingy drunk, but he’d had so few experiences with intoxication in his life that he supposed he hadn’t realized the extent of it. And he wasn’t drunk, per se—he could still see straight, and he wouldn’t wake up with a hangover. He had just needed to dull the feelings a bit, after everything had come rushing to the surface. He hoped Sicheng didn’t mind.           

He sighed, “It’s so nice, being here with you.”          

Sicheng responded, low and rumbly, “It’s nice being here with you, too.”          

Ten laughed—giggled, if he was being totally honest—and pressed his face into Sicheng’s neck. He felt a little giddy, now that the truth was out, like a weight had been lifted off of him. Thank god for nervous breakdowns, he thought.

Sicheng had already made him drink a couple glasses of water and gotten him ready for bed. Now, at Ten’s insistence, he was sitting with him, back against the headboard. “No, I mean _really._ You and Hendery—it’s been so nice. I’ve been happy. With you two. You make me happy. I know I’ve been… difficult.”         

“Ten, don’t—”          

“No, I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” Ten continued. “I know that, and I’m trying to be better. It’s really… hard for me to trust people.”          

“I’ve picked up on that,” Sicheng admitted quietly.          

“And I’m sorry about—the other night,” Ten mumbled the last few words, but Sicheng just barely caught them, the words invoking the memory of Ten’s thigh pressed against his for both of them. “I guess I was scared. And I handled everything wrong. I was trying to get you to sleep with me.”           

“What?” Sicheng squeaked out.  

“I don’t know. It seemed like an easier solution than anything else.” Ten sighed, then laughed a little bit. “You know I’m attracted to you. I don’t think you’re oblivious enough to have missed that.”          

When Sicheng didn’t respond in a timely manner, Ten asked, “What are you thinking about, pilot man?”          

Sicheng tugged on his ear lightly in gentle protest of the nickname. His hand lingered, smoothing out Ten’s hair. Ten sighed loudly, and vocalized his disapproval when Sicheng tried to move his hand. Sicheng relented and continued to comb through Ten’s hair with his fingers, his touch feather-light. Ten felt goosebumps up and down his arms, the innocent gesture making him melt, feeling for once safe and relaxed. “I wish things were different. For all of us.”          

The words made Ten sad. He couldn’t quite work out exactly why, as his brain was very slow at the moment. He asked, “Different? How?”       

Sicheng was quiet. “I wish we were free from all this bullshit. The cops, the city, money… it’s all just a way to keep everyone in line, so that we don’t try to want too much. They don’t want us setting our sights too high.”          

Ten knew that was true. But he’d never had freedom. Not really. Not in the way Sicheng was talking about. “What would we do with it if we had it?”          

“Whatever we wanted to,” Sicheng answered, smiling. “I’d take you anywhere you wanted to go. Hendery wants to see America, we could put that on the list. Maybe some of those pretty islands out in the middle of the ocean.”           

“And Thailand,” Ten said without thinking. “I wanna go back someday. It’s really nice there… you guys will like it.”          

Sicheng was silent for a moment. “Okay,” he finally said, kindly not mentioning the gravity of the information that Ten had inadvertently given away about himself. “We’ll go to Thailand, too.”           

Ten yawned, comforted by the idea of flying back to his home with Sicheng and Hendery. In his drunkenness, he’d almost forgotten it was a mere fantasy. He wouldn’t be going anywhere after they got back to Seoul. Ten was struck by a thought, his eyes flying open. “Winwin?”           

Sicheng’s hand stilled in Ten’s hair. “Yeah?”

“I think you should go, no matter what happens,” Ten murmured.     

“What do you mean, no matter what happens?” Sicheng asked.      

Ten squinted, trying to find the words. “I mean… even if things don’t work out, with us.”           

Sicheng stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. “Ten… you’re not making sense.”        

Ten smiled, tired and sad and happy all at the same time. “Yeah, I know.” He put his hand up to Sicheng’s face, cupping his jawbone fondly. “You’re one of the good ones, Sicheng.”      

Sicheng’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as he looked down at Ten, an odd look in his eyes. “I think that’s the first time you’ve used my real name.”

Ten laughed lightly, pressing a thumb into the almost non-exist squish of Sicheng’s cheek. “Didn’t know if I was allowed.”          

“Of course you’re allowed,” Sicheng answered. “Of course, Ten.”          

Ten’s heart was breaking a little bit. Just a little. Just enough that when he left, it would hurt like hell. “I guess I wasn’t sure you ever trusted me that much,” Ten said. “I know that I had trouble trusting you.”  

Sicheng was silent for a bit, but Ten was used to his long pauses by now. Sicheng was a thinker, needing long stretches of time in which to gather his thoughts before vocalizing them. “I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I assumed the worst of you. We assumed the worst of each other.” 

Ten pressed his face back into Sicheng’s sharp collarbone, squeezing his eyes shut as hard as he could. “Yes,” he responded. “We did.”          

Sicheng let him be still for a while, still carding his fingers through Ten’s hair. “Hendery was right. You don’t have to do it, you know. You don’t have to go back.”           

“I do,” Ten said. “I have to.”          

“Hendery’s smart,” Sicheng insisted. “He can figure something out. He’ll take that company down from the inside out if you need it.”      

Ten didn’t answer, a heavy guilt mixing with a twinge of wistfulness inside him. He couldn’t. He couldn’t ask anymore of Hendery, when he had already given so much of himself. Ten hadn’t deserved any of it. Sicheng interrupted his spiraling with a gentle, “He’s forgiven you, you know. He knows that you’re not a bad person.”         

Ten did know that. That wasn't the problem.

Ten’s throat felt tight. He didn’t want to talk anymore. “I want to sleep.”          

Sicheng looked like he wanted to say more, but simply nodded, looking tired. “Okay.”        

Ten rolled over to the other side of the bed and pressed his face into the pillow, trying to block everything out but the feeling of the soft bed beneath him. “Goodnight, Sicheng.”           

He felt Sicheng shift, and Ten wondered if he’d said a little too much. He wondered whether it was as scary to Sicheng as it was to Ten. He wondered if his words would stick in Sicheng’s mind like Sicheng’s words would in Ten’s. 

“Goodnight, Ten.”

           

* * *

 

“You okay?”

  
Ten woke up alone.

           

The room was dark; the door was cracked just a sliver, and the dim light in the hallway was enough to see Hendery’s profile. He murmured in answer, “Yeah, I’m gonna find Sicheng.”

           

As Hendery walked away, Ten had to strain to hear the hushed whispers outside. He wasn’t sure why he was eavesdropping; maybe old habit. He managed to determine with his tired brain that it was Kun and Lucas.

           

“Why do you care so much?”

           

“Because I’ve been in his position before. You should know that better than anyone.”

           

“Sorry… you’re right. Sorry.”

           

A slight pause.

           

“Do you think we should say something, then?” 

           

“I don’t know,” Lucas replied. “Probably not. It’s not our place.”

        

“Is it anyone’s, though?”

           

Lucas sighed. A tall shadow shifted into Ten’s line of sight, taking a step closer to the other. “It’s not your responsibility. You don’t have to take care of everyone.”

           

Interesting. Lucas was unusually subdued, tonight, but Ten supposed he couldn’t always be his high-energy self. Kun muttered, “You don’t, either.”

           

“I know,” Lucas answered quietly. “Just you.”

           

Ten expected to hear Kun laugh, the sound of a scoff as one or both of them played it off like it was nothing, but there was only quiet. _Even more interesting._  

           

He realized then that he was listening in on something intensely private, something that he didn't need to be hearing. It didn't seem to involve him, anyway.

 

Despite his curiosity, he rolled over, pulled the blanket over his face, and went back to sleep.

           

  

* * *

         

 

Hendery couldn’t sleep.

Ten had, thankfully, been out cold by the time Hendery had come back from talking with Xiaojun and Yangyang. Hendery’s brain couldn’t handle anymore new information tonight, already spinning with ideas about how to get Ten out of this situation. He couldn’t let Ten go to prison.

Sicheng had disappeared outside, muttering something about needing air. Hendery wandered to the living room, creeping as quietly as he could so that he didn’t wake anybody in the house up.

He was used to this, being silent as a ghost, as if he didn’t even exist. Better not to draw attention to himself. Hendery had learned this early in life.        

He saw Sicheng outside, standing stalk-still against the drone, staring up at the stars, so he slipped on his shoes and out the door.           

“Stargazing?” he asked softly.           

Sicheng started a little, but otherwise didn’t react. He wasn’t wearing his jacket, and there were goosebumps up and down his forearms. He finally said, “I suppose so.”           

Hendery paused. “Do you want to be left alone?”          

Sicheng’s gaze shifted to Hendery, then, and he blinked, as if he’d just realized Hendery was there. “No,” he gestured at the space beside him, and Hendery leaned back, resting his weight against the drone, shoulder brushing lightly against Sicheng’s. “Couldn’t sleep?”           

Hendery shook his head. “I couldn’t stop thinking about everything.”           

Sicheng nodded. “Me too.”           

Hendery rubbed at his neck, self-conscious, all of a sudden. “It’s… weird between us, sometimes, isn’t it?”         

He felt Sicheng’s eyes on him. “Weird? Between… you and me, you mean?”         

Hendery nodded, not sure why he’d brought this up now, when they had a million more pressing problems. Sicheng didn’t seem to know what he was talking about, so he added, trying to keep all emotion out of his voice, “Like how sometimes you treat me like I’m your little brother or something.”          

Silence. Hendery wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground, ears burning, but he had started this conversation, and he honestly wanted to know. Sicheng seemed to be formulating his words, finally answering, “I didn’t… I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”          

Well, that wasn’t exactly the response Hendery had been hoping for, but he’d take it. He pressed on. “But also… there’s a certain… distance, isn’t there? You’re always holding something back.” 

He heard a sharp intake of air as Sicheng glanced over at him sharply. Something in his face softened when he took in Hendery's expression, though, and his shoulders slumped a little.     

Sicheng exhaled slowly. “It’s hard for me to say things out loud, sometimes. Especially about how I feel.”         

Hendery swallowed, wondering if it was okay for him to say what he was about to say. “Ten said… he said that you two kissed.”          

Sicheng’s eyes widened. “He told you that?”          

“Yeah,” Hendery said, trying to sound casual. “When we were getting ready for bed.”          

A crease was forming between Sicheng’s eyebrows. “Oh. I didn’t realize… that you two talked about that kind of thing.”         

They were quiet for a minute. Hendery wondered if he was correct in assuming from this statement that Sicheng and Ten _didn’t_ talk about that kind of thing. They didn’t seem like big talkers, with each other. That would drive Hendery crazy, never knowing exactly what the other person was thinking or where they stood.

Hendery broke the silence, offering, “You could talk to me, if you wanted. About… Ten, or whatever.”       

“I want to,” Sicheng said, and his voice was barely above a whisper. Hendery had never seen Sicheng look so unsure. “But… I don’t really… understand how I feel. About either of you.  And I don’t want anybody to end up hurt because of me.”

Hendery considered this. “You’re not going to hurt anyone. We’re all adults.”

Sicheng’s lips were pressed together in a thin line. “But it’s all so… complicated.”

“In some ways, I guess,” Hendery answered. He’d spent a lot of time working through his own insecurities over the past few days, but talking them out with Ten and Sicheng helped a lot. “But I think there are some things that you’re just overthinking.”

“Yeah?” Sicheng asked. “Like what?”

Hendery said a quick mental prayer that this wouldn’t ruin everything. Leaning into Sicheng’s space, he pressed a kiss to Sicheng’s cheek. “You act like everything is so black and white.”

Sicheng looked surprised, but not mad, or pitying, so Hendery thought, all things considered, not the worst outcome. He was looking at Hendery like he’d never seen him before. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, his face a little pink. “Wow. Okay.”

“Okay?” Hendery probed.

“I mean, yeah,” Sicheng laughed a tiny, nervous laugh. “You definitely caught me off guard. I—I’m not saying that I… would be opposed to it.”

“No?”

“I just… need some time,” Sicheng finished.   

Hendery suppressed a smile. “That’s okay, Sicheng.”          

“Is it?” he asked, and Hendery heard the breathless uncertainty in his voice. Whatever Sicheng was thinking about, it was bothering him a lot. Hendery knew Sicheng had something he wasn’t telling them, but he felt like he could handle most anything, now that he knew the truth about Ten.

Knowing felt better. Hendery had spent so much of his life being lied to and manipulated that he’d almost forgotten how nice the truth felt.

Now they could figure it out together. If Sicheng was worried about it being complicated, well, that was far better than ignoring it, in Hendery’s opinion.        

“Yes,” Hendery confirmed. “We need to figure out how to get Ten out of this, right? We have bigger things to worry about.”       

Sicheng nodded hesitantly. “Right,” he said, but he still looked conflicted. All Hendery wanted to say was  _trust me_ _, please,_ but he didn't want to come across like a clingy, desperate mess. Sicheng would tell him whatever he needed to when he was ready. 

Hendery put his hand over Sicheng’s. “Sicheng, really. Don’t worry. As long as we’re friends, that’s all I care about. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”      

Sicheng looked down at his hands. “No, you’re—that’s not it. You’re fine. I just—”      

“There’s a lot of other stuff going on,” Hendery finished softly. “I get it.” He noticed how Sicheng was holding himself, the tension in his frame. “Are you really okay, Sicheng?"           

Sicheng looked up, startled, and answered, “I don’t know.”        

He needed time to think, it seemed. Hendery nodded and patted Sicheng’s shoulder, trying to convey _I’m here for you_ even as he gave Sicheng space. “I’ll leave you alone.” 

Sicheng closed his eyes. “Get some sleep.”           

“I will,” Hendery said, trying for cheerful, starting to head back inside. “You, too, okay?”         

“Yeah.” Sicheng still wasn’t looking up when he called, “Hendery?”          

Hendery stopped, waiting. It sounded like it was hard for Sicheng to get out his next words. He blinked slowly, then said, “No offense, but I definitely don’t think of you like a little brother.”         

Hendery was surprised into a laugh; Sicheng was so bad at this, sometimes, in a way that was terribly endearing. “Good to know.”           

He turned around and went inside the house, still smiling.  

 

 

* * *

 

           

           

Sicheng wasn’t sure what he was feeling.         

           

He had never been good at this stuff; sorting out his thoughts was difficult in itself, much less expressing them out loud.

           

Sicheng had been in love precisely once in his life. This was not that, he was sure; not yet, anyway, if it was even in the same ballpark. Then, he had been teenaged and insecure and stupid, and he had let his romantic interest do a great deal of the work in terms of the relationship, from the initial confession to the first _I love you_ , because Sicheng had been so painfully introverted to the point of shyness and he hadn’t known what to do _._

 

He had a lot of regrets when it came to that relationship, the least of which had been leaving for Hong-Kong with basically no warning.

           

Both Hendery and Ten had been asleep for hours now, tucked safely under the blankets. The entire house was dark and silent. He could go inside right now, squeeze into bed next to Hendery and his heart rate would slow, and he would probably feel a little better. It wouldn't resolve anything, and he might wake up feeling worse, but for a few moments, he would probably feel better, because these people had that effect on him. Which was a strange thing in itself. 

           

Sicheng was so used to chasing adrenaline. And he loved it, loved the heart-pounding excitement of driving a car too fast through the sky; it was one of the only feelings that could get him out of his own head. But it had been a long time since he’d felt okay in the calm moments, as well.

 

For the first time, he could see a future unfolding where he had both.

           

It was cold outside tonight, the summer heat having disappeared hours ago with the sun, the metal of the drone chilling him even more. Sicheng shivered as he dialed the number, holding the interface up to his face and making sure once more that the camera was off.

           

When the other end picked up, he said clearly, “I’m not finishing the job.”  
           

 

There was silence on the other end, before the voice said, “That’s not up to you.”

           

“No, I’m fucking done. This was sketchy to begin with, but… you said it was for a good reason.”  
           

 

“It is,” the voice asserted coldly. “This is the law we’re talking about, Winwin. Not to mention your contract.”

           

“Well, consider it broken. The law is wrong.”

 

A snort. “I think you misunderstand the concept of debt, young man.”

           

“I don’t care. It’s not worth it.”

           

A pause. “I thought you were doing this for your family.”

           

He felt a twinge of regret at that, but he wasn’t going to be dissuaded. Not now. “They’ll understand. They wouldn’t want me to do this.”

           

“I’ll make sure to explain that to them when I’m forced to evict them from their property,” the voice responded mildly. “You know that your academy education wasn’t cheap.”

           

Sicheng closed his eyes. The payout of this job would have paid off his entire debt, and then some. “I’ll keep working. You’ll get your money, I promise. I just can’t finish this job, alright?”

           

“And what about my other investment?”

           

Sicheng froze, eyes flying open. “What other investment?”

           

His own words, uttered days earlier to a tired Hong-Kong drone patrol officer, sprung to his mind, unbidden. _He’s the boss’s son, you understand._

 

Sicheng had never been a good liar. 

           

“Don’t play dumb,” the voice scoffed. “You may be stupid, but you’re not that stupid, Winwin. Bring my son home, and I might not add to your debt the entire sum of money I’ve lost in this shitshow. And I’ll take care of those police troubles. I should have had my own people track you down when you deviated from the plan, but I made the mistake of giving you the benefit of the doubt and letting that child have his fun.”

           

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sicheng said. “And I’m done with this conversation.”

           

“Good luck with that kidnapping charge, then. Oh, and the grand theft auto? Pity that the drone had an automatic alarm set to trigger when taken outside Hong-Kong. All problems of your own making.”

           

Sicheng hung up, heart beating too quickly. He looked down at his interface, thinking hard. He stared at the last message he’d sent, earlier that day, to an unknown number, in a language he didn’t really speak. He knew what it said, though, simple and to the point: _Help. Please._

It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

           

If Ten was thinking rationally, he would have known that his friends would have never asked that of him. But Ten wasn’t thinking rationally. He was clearly scared out of his mind, even if he tried to hide it. The messages had just been an incentive, to make him think he was coming back of his own free will. It made things easier for everyone, made it so Sicheng didn’t have to worry about him escaping.

           

It had been almost too easy to nudge Ten in the right direction.

 

But this obviously wasn’t the average cut-and-run situation. And Ten wasn’t the average criminal.

 

The murder charge… well, nobody had said anything about the sexual assault of a minor. Nobody had said anything about the psychological duress that Ten and his coworkers had been under. Nobody had said that Ten wasn’t actually _dangerous,_ just in the wrong place at the wrong time _._ He remembered Hendery’s words: _You act like everything is so black and white._

           

He was starting to think that they had all been lied to.

           

And Hendery… he was never supposed to be involved in this. Ten had been more desperate than Sicheng had given him credit for, and he'd gone completely off script. 

 

Sicheng's panic at Ten's kidnapping attempt had been very real, given what he knew about Hendery's father. Sicheng had tried to take Hendery home, as soon as he realized who he was, but he had made a serious miscalculation in his desire not to alert Ten to the bounty on his head, and now… now, he was afraid that the consequences would be far worse. For all of them. 

 

Sicheng’s employer wasn’t a kind man.

           

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the hard surface of the old drone. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself and think rationally, about what he could do to fix this, before it was too late. He had to tell Ten. He had to tell Hendery. This situation was quickly getting out of his control.

           

He opened his eyes, looking up the clear sky above. A few stars were visible from here, faint as they were. Seeing them, here, was a nice reminder that they were there; it reminded Sicheng of home. Stars were easy to forget about, after so long living in an electric metropolis, easy to become accustomed to looking up at the sky and seeing nothing but an unhealthy gray void. It felt normal, after so long.

           

Maybe that was Sicheng, though. So used to breathing in the toxic air of Hong-Kong that he didn’t even notice the way it had seeped into his lungs and started corrupting from the inside out.

           

He would tell them. And he would figure out the rest later, how he would have to spend his life on the run from both the police and his employer, how he could possibly protect his family, how he could scrounge up enough money to pay off his debt. How he could try to keep Hendery and Ten from their own respective prisons.

    

Sicheng supposed that was all relative, though, to the fact that he'd been lying to Hendery and Ten in order to achieve their trust. Relative to the fact that he was, regardless of all of his mental rationalization and moral posturing, a bounty hunter. Relative to the fact that he'd done something absolutely unforgivable, and the people that he cared about would pay the price.  

 

It was no small thing to break contract with a mob boss, after all.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(


	19. drift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol no offense to SM Entertainment or anything

Kun didn’t make a habit of meddling in other people’s lives.

He knew it might sound counterintuitive, for a cop. He’d had his own issues in the past. He knew first-hand how damaging, for all parties, it could be to get involved in something that didn’t concern him. 

But he’d also stayed quiet once when he shouldn’t have. And Lucas had almost gone to prison because of it. 

He had people he needed to protect. 

He talked to Amber in low tones over the kitchen island, trying to convince himself that it wouldn’t come back on him and his friends if things went badly here, to which Amber responded quietly, “You know better than anyone that there’s always a chance it could go badly.” 

Kun tapped his fingers thoughtfully against the countertop. “I wouldn’t be able to do anything, if the police came. Or worse. I have no authority here. My squad back home probably thinks I’ve been kidnapped, anyway, even if they could help.”

Amber nodded. “There must be something we can do.” 

Kun sighed heavily, desperately trying to think. “Lucas still thinks we can get him to flip. He obviously wants to race. I don’t… I don’t know.” 

“You don’t think he’ll follow through?” Amber asked. “Why not?” 

Kun shook his head. “I know you haven’t been around lately… Our people aren’t double-crossing us just for the fun of it. Wong is powerful, and he isn’t afraid to threaten families. His reach is too broad for us to be able to guarantee anyone’s safety.” 

This was the heart of the problem, for Kun. Yes, he had sworn an oath, to protect everyone equally no matter who they were or what they’d done. 

But there were people who didn’t play by the rules, and they were too close for comfort. And Kun had made other promises, too, ones that he absolutely couldn’t break. 

He wouldn’t let his friends be hurt. Maybe that made him a bad cop, but he had never set out to be a particularly good one. At least while here, he could keep an eye on Wong’s lackey, but as soon as they left--

“We have to tell them, don’t we?” Kun asked, thinking about Yangyang and Xiaojun, who weren’t angels by any means but also hadn’t done anything to be put at risk like this. 

Amber gave him a tight half-smile. “It’s up to you, bro.” 

The front door opened, and they both froze as Winwin trudged in, shivering. Amber recovered first, giving him a little wave and a smile.

Winwin looked a little startled to see them, but after a moment, he smiled back sweetly. It was easy to see how he could be a good bounty hunter; nobody would ever suspect that face of duplicity. “Hi.” 

“Headed to bed?” Amber asked casually. 

“Yeah,” Winwin answered. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight!” Kun and Amber both responded as Winwin turned down the hall towards the guest room that he and his—friends?—were staying in. 

The door clicked shut with a soft sound, and Kun exhaled slowly. “Well...” 

Amber patted Kun on the shoulder reassuringly. “It’ll be okay, man. Those boys can take care of themselves.” 

Kun blew out a breath. “Yeah, I hope so.” 

 

* * *

 

Sicheng was sleeping on the floor.

This was the first thing that Ten noticed upon opening his eyes. It was morning already, the sunlight streaming in the windows. Hendery, face pressed into the pillow beside him, was still sleeping, too, not touching Ten but close enough that he could feel his body heat. It was comforting, and Ten had to resist the urge to reach out and touch Hendery’s face. 

He kept his hands to himself. Despite their new, fragile bond, he still felt a heavy guilt in his chest at the thought of his own actions with Hendery, the utter lack of respect he’d had for Hendery’s consent. It was disgusting, truly, especially considering how many times Ten had felt powerless and objectified by others, how many times his own consent had been disregarded. 

There was no excuse for it. 

Ten tore his eyes away from Hendery’s sleeping form and sat up, trying not to jostle the bed too much. Sicheng was curled up on the floor with a pillow and blanket; Ten wondered why he hadn’t just crawled into bed with them, last night, when there was clearly room. He supposed it would have been tight, with the three of them, and perhaps it was too soon for him. 

Either way, he didn’t want to wake either of them up. It had been a while since they’d been able to sleep soundly through the night. 

They both deserved the rest, after all that Ten had put them through. 

He wondered if he could leave now, without anyone noticing. He didn’t really want to, at this point; it was so tempting to let them help him through this. It had been a moment of weakness, of a moment of vulnerability, telling them the truth, but for some reason, he couldn’t quite bring himself to regret it. It felt like a weight had been lifted, and now he could breathe a little. 

But his friends were still in danger. And he needed to get to them.

Sicheng had been right about one thing, at least: Hendery was smart, and he knew things about business and law and corporate structure that the other two didn’t, having been essentially in the center of it for his entire nineteen years of life. He could help, probably much more than Ten could on his own. And Ten wanted to let him. 

But he was scared that this would come back on Hendery, that this could cause his father to find them, or the police, and Hendery’s life would be ruined. He couldn’t let that happen. 

He didn’t know what Sicheng had to lose, but he was sure that there was something. Ten needed to remember that most people had _something,_ someone that they didn’t want to give up, or put at risk, even if Ten himself didn’t. He didn’t want to ask Sicheng to make sacrifices, either. 

At his core, though, he knew it wasn’t all practical considerations that were preventing him from taking off. 

He didn’t want to leave them. He’d been lying to himself, all this time, trying not to get attached, but he was. He wanted so deeply to stay with them, and trust them, and let them help. 

As much as his brain was screaming at him not to let himself fall for it, he didn’t feel like Sicheng and Hendery would let him down. 

  
  


* * *

 

When Sicheng woke, he knew what he had to do.

He was alone, neither Ten nor Hendery in the bedroom. His back was a little sore, but the hard floor, but it was nothing compared to being in drone fourteen hours a day. He wandered out into the main part of the house. 

“There’s a concert, tonight,” Hendery was saying, showing Ten something on Yangyang’s interface. “A big industry event, in Seoul. Look, they’re on the setlist. If we can get in, we can find your friends.” 

Ten shook his head. “There’s so much security at these things, there’s no way—” 

“We’ll find a way,” Hendery said firmly. “We will. I can find a way in, Ten.” 

Sicheng stood in the doorway, not sure if he was ready for this. The other two were at the kitchen table, heads tilted together as they leaned over the interface. Ten took a deep breath, then looked over at Sicheng, a small smile appearing on his face. “Sicheng.” 

There he went, calling Sicheng his actual name again. It made him feel even worse, somehow, about his deception; he almost would rather Ten continue to call him passive-aggressive little pet-names. It made him feel like Ten trusted him. 

He opened his mouth, trying to figure out how to tell them that he’d been lying to them for the past four days. 

Hendery leaned forward, head propped up by his elbow. “Sicheng, can you come look at this? Tell me what you think.” 

There was no good way to say it. So he didn’t. 

Later, when he was sure they were alone, Hendery asked quietly, “Ten, if we pull this off, if we manage to get inside and find them… what will you do?” 

Ten looked down, chewing on his lip. “I don’t know. I guess try to convince them to come with me.” 

“And then what?” Hendery probed, insistent. “I know you want to help them, but I’m… concerned.” 

“I don’t know, Hendery,” Ten snapped. “Okay? I don’t know.” 

Sicheng was watching, quietly. He’d been acting strange since last night, Hendery thought. He hadn’t gotten a chance to ask him about it yet, but Hendery was worried it was about his pseudo-confession, that Sicheng had been trying to spare his feelings and Hendery hadn’t taken the hint. 

He couldn’t take it back now, though. He just hoped it wouldn’t ruin their relationship permanently; Hendery really did like being Sicheng’s friend, even if that was all it would ever be. 

He needed to focus on the matter at hand. He didn’t have time to think about this. “We need to figure it out,” Hendery replied firmly. “Listen, Ten, I’ll follow your lead on this, but you need to have some idea of what to do if we actually find them. They’re on contract, right? They can’t just leave.” 

“But it sounds like someone’s actually in danger,” Ten said, very quietly so that nobody else in the house could overhear. “I’d much rather they get sued than get really hurt.” 

“Someone wants to get out, at least,” Hendery replied. “If they messaged you.”  

“I don’t know,” Ten muttered, running a hand through his hair. “He was messaging because he was worried about someone else. I know… I know even if he wanted out, he would never leave without the others.” 

The guilt in Ten’s voice was clear. Even if he didn’t have much of a choice but to leave, he still regretted it, felt like he'd done something wrong. Hendery knew the feeling. 

Hendery still wasn’t convinced that this was a good idea. It was stupid, and dangerous, and with no discernible end goal other than to check that Ten's friends were still in one piece. But Ten was going to try to do this no matter what, and probably get himself arrested or killed in the process, especially if he tried it alone. Hendery would do whatever he could to help. "Alright. We'll think of it like a reconnaissance mission. Get the information we need as discreetly as possible, and then figure out what to do from there. No risky moves." 

Sicheng was still being oddly quiet. Hendery was more frustrated than he probably should be at his silence; he could at least try to contribute. He’d come this far with them. “Sicheng, can you fly us in and out?” 

Sicheng didn’t say anything, staring at Hendery, apparently at a loss. Hendery added impatiently, “Yes or no, Sicheng? You don’t have to do it, but we need to know now.” 

“Yes,” Sicheng said quickly, appearing to shake himself out of his thoughts. “Yes, of course I’ll do it.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yeah,” Sicheng answered. “I’m sure.” 

 

* * *

  
  
  


“Hey,” Kun said, sitting down gingerly on one of the rickety kitchen chairs. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” 

“Sure,” Ten answered distractedly, still staring down at Hendery’s plan, running through it in his mind over and over, trying to imagine how it could possibly work. Hendery, Sicheng, and the rest of the WayV boys were outside, looking at the drone’s engine and making some modifications to make sure it would make it through another day. 

To be honest, he appreciated the alone time—it was starting to become a little overwhelming, the emotional intensity of their relationship, having been constantly together for days on end. It was unfamiliar to him, and kind of frightening. He was used to being alone. 

Kun hesitated, tapping his fingers against the wood of the kitchen table. “How much do you know about Mr. Wong?” 

Ten startled, looking up at Kun with wide eyes. “What?”

“Mr. Wong,” Kun repeated patiently. “Lucas talked to you about it, didn’t he? He’s a notorious crime lord in Hong-Kong, very white-collar sort of criminal.” He lowered his voice. “Hendery’s father.”

Ten’s eyebrows drew together. “I only know… what Lucas and Hendery told me. Nothing else.”

Kun nodded. “I figured.” He glanced up at the doorway, as if checking to see who might be around. “I… have first-hand experience with this stuff, is all. He tends to employ people who don’t have much to lose, or people that have a lot to lose. Not much in between.” 

“Okay,” Ten said slowly, not sure what Kun was getting at here. “And?” 

Kun sighed. “Just… be careful, is all. The man has eyes and ears everywhere.” 

There was a long pause in which Ten tried to make the pit in his stomach go away. “What are you saying, Kun?” 

Kun’s lips parted, about to speak, when Sicheng appeared at the doorway. Kun’s demeanor changed instantly, face relaxing into an easy smile. “Whatever, we can talk later.”

Whatever it was, Ten guessed he didn’t want to talk about it with everyone else around. 

What the hell was going on?

 

* * *

  
  
  


They needed to get out of Amber’s house.           

It wasn’t even her place to begin with, and they’d managed to co-opt it with their preparations, along with the WayV boys. She’d been kind enough to let three fugitives sleep there for the night, but Ten was sure there were limits to anyone’s kindness. Especially if her friend came home to discover that the loan had extended beyond Amber to half a dozen strangers from China. 

The day had passed in a blur, for Ten. It was strange; one minute he was talking in hypotheticals, saying what he wanted to do, and the next, it was time to do it. He wasn’t sure he was ready. 

They had a plan in place, hastily thrown together. It was clumsy and incredibly stupid, but he didn’t care, at this point. This was what he’d come to Seoul to do, for better or for worse.  

He had to figure out how to help them, and he couldn’t do that without first talking to them. Nobody had answered his messages in days.           

He knew Hendery wasn’t happy with the haste at which it was all being conducted, because it meant that the situation was impossible for them to fully control. There were still so many unknowns, and try as he might, Hendery couldn’t guarantee that any of this would work.           

But Ten didn’t need a guarantee. He needed to do what he could.    

With a smile, he thanked Amber, with as much sincerity as he could convey. She had been so genuinely kind to him, for no reason, and he felt comfortable around her. He wished that they could have been true friends, had things been different.  

She clasped his hand, holding on for a moment, and something in her eyes communicated the words that she couldn’t say around the others; she knew things about his past. She’d once run in circles tangential to his own, in Seoul. 

And she didn’t judge him for what she knew.

From the brief things she had said about her past, Ten had been able to gather that they were kindred spirits, in a way, escaping from something bigger than themselves. The difference was that Amber had made it. She had proven that it could be done. Ten remembered what Sicheng had said: _There isn’t anything you can’t escape with a fast-enough drone._

He hadn’t thought that to be true, at the time. Now, all he could do was hope to God that it was.

The other boys were understandably confused at their sudden departure. Their offers of help were kind, but Ten couldn't bring himself to involve them any more than they already were. He heard Lucas say to Hendery, "If you need something, for any reason, a ride or... anything... give us a call." 

Ten was distracted by Kun unexpectedly pulling him into a hug. "Oh, uh... okay." 

He felt something be slipped into his pocket, and when he went to reach for it, Kun whispered, "Not now." 

His curiosity peaked, he looked at Kun, startled. "When you're alone," Kun said.

"Kun, you sly police man, you," Ten replied, raising an eyebrow. "Is it a love note? I had no idea you felt that way about me." 

Kun laughed, so unfazed by his flirting that Ten was a little offended. "Sure." 

Well. How rude.

"I didn't want to date you, anyway," Ten said, ego not at all bruised. Not at all. 

"Sorry," Kun replied, still laughing a little. "That's not--I don't see that in the cards for us, I'm afraid." 

At least Ten didn't have to worry about missing Kun. Jesus. 

 

* * *

  
  
  
  


The noise from the stadium was almost deafening. 

As they approached in the drone, the traffic ahead stopped to nearly a stand-still. Ten tapped his fingers against the dash impatiently, his long fingernails making a hard _tap tap tap_ sound against the surface. Sicheng kept glancing over, clearly irritated, and Hendery, seated between them, braced for the stress to boil over into open conflict.

Sicheng stayed quiet. 

Still, Hendery grabbed Ten’s hand and started massaging it lightly, wanting to do something with his hands and also attempt to make Ten feel better. Ten’s pulse was thrumming hard in his wrist, nearly to the beat of the bass. The open-air stadium leaked noise like crazy into the airspace above it, the bass making the drone shake slightly; if it was this loud from here, Hendery was concerned about the hearing of the people inside. The show was meant to go on for hours and hours, dozens of different artists set to perform within a single evening, a glorified fundraiser. 

It wouldn’t be easy to find Ten’s friends. 

Ten managed a small grateful look in Hendery’s direction. “One of these days, I’ll take care of you, too.” 

Hendery smiled, taken aback, but a little pleased, despite himself. “It’s not like that, Ten.” 

“I know it’s not,” Ten answered quietly. “But still.” 

Sicheng was distant. He hadn’t gotten involved in their conversations, especially not the personal ones. He had pulled away to the extent that Hendery was worried that something was seriously wrong. Had he been that put off by Hendery’s talk with him last night? 

Surely, the idea of Hendery being interested in him wasn’t that disgusting, was it?

The guilt in Hendery that had been building since this morning was threatening to boil over into saying something that he would most definitely regret. His anxiety was his own issue; he knew he shouldn’t put that on Sicheng, especially since they’d already talked, and he’d agreed to give Sicheng his space, but damn it, he wanted to apologize, to address it somehow, even though rationally, he knew it wouldn’t help anything. He couldn’t stand the thought of Sicheng hating him.  

He said he’d wait for Sicheng to think about it. 

Ten nudged him gently, and he realized he had been staring at Sicheng for a few seconds longer than strictly appropriate. When he looked over at Ten, Ten raised an eyebrow, lips gently curved upwards. 

They’d talked about this, earlier, when Sicheng had left the room. (“I think he hates me,” Hendery had told him quietly. “He doesn’t hate you, darling,” Ten had answered soothingly. “I promise. Nobody could hate you.”)

The thing was, as much as Ten and Hendery talked about things, Hendery didn’t know exactly where the two of them stood, either. It just hadn’t come up, with everything else going on; Hendery had been focused solely on planning what was going to happen. 

He knew he’d built a relationship, a genuine friendship, with Ten that he hadn’t had before, not really; as much as they’d talked, all those late nights at the club, it had always been fairly one-sided, with Hendery leaning on Ten to lend him an ear and little reciprocation. 

Hendery was starting to understand how much it meant that Ten was leaning on him, now. 

Hendery just shook his head minutely at Ten’s questioning look, not wanting to get into it, with Sicheng right next to them. It was strange, how much the mood had shifted between the three of them since last night. It was as if Ten’s confession had knocked them off balance, throwing Ten and Hendery together and Sicheng somewhere far away. 

Hendery kind of missed him, as weird as that sounded, given Sicheng was only centimeters away from him. 

Ten’s eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, then continued his stare down at the city below. His friends were down there, somewhere. So close, but still completely inaccessible. 

He remembered what his goal had been at the beginning of all this. _“I want to be a singer,”_ he’d said. And that hadn’t been a lie. 

But maybe he’d just been looking for an excuse to run. Like if he had a goal, a rough idea of his future, it would be less crazy for him to abandon his life and pretend he wasn’t the son of the most powerful crime lord in China. Maybe if he said he wanted to be a singer, he could just… cease to be Wong Kunhang, heir to the Wong empire, and be someone else, someone entirely different, in a new country, a new life. He’d felt so trapped, like there was no way out. 

With Ten, with Sicheng, he felt like it might be okay to just be Hendery. 

  
  


* * *

 

This plan was, truthfully, their boldest—and stupidest—one yet.

Touched down in a nearby grocery store parking lot, Ten carefully drew dark lines across the sensitive skin beneath Sicheng’s eyes. Hands brushing against his face, like this, it was intimate, quiet. Ten was gentle, almost loving in the way his hands moved, an artist’s touch.

It seemed like this was something Ten enjoyed, or had enjoyed, at one time in his life, and Hendery felt a pang of sadness that he hadn’t had to a chance to see Ten in this state many times before, doing something he actually liked doing, calm and confident in his abilities. 

Hendery watched, entranced by the way Ten transformed Sicheng into something else entirely; he didn’t have to do much, with the structure of Sicheng’s face being so striking already, but what he did with only a few strokes was, frankly, stunning. 

With a bit of darkness around his eyes and contour on his cheeks, Sicheng looked every bit the part that he would be playing tonight, beautiful and untouchable. He was silent as he let Ten work, face still, obediently looking up and down when Ten asked him to, but otherwise passive. Ten sat back, brushing a tiny mark left by his pencil on the edge of Sicheng’s eye, examining the full face for issues. There weren’t any, as far as Hendery could see. Sicheng looked amazing.  

Ten turned around to look at Hendery, smiling a little at his handiwork, as if he’d already forgotten the make-up he’d put on Hendery a few minutes previously. “You look so pretty,” he said, almost to himself, and Hendery was sure that he was blushing.

“Thanks to you,” he replied, flustered. 

“No,” Ten disputed, shaking his head. “You’re always pretty.” It sounded so matter-of-fact, said without Ten’s usual suggestive grin, and Hendery wasn’t quite sure how to react to that. 

 Sicheng watched the two of them, and Hendery honestly couldn’t tell if he was jealous or concerned or confused at the interaction. He was expressionless, and that worried Hendery. He didn’t like when he couldn’t read people. “You did a good job, Ten,” Hendery said, leaning over Ten’s shoulder to get a closer look at Sicheng’s face.

“Do I look like an idol?” Sicheng asked, only half-joking. It was important that they all did, or this wouldn’t even begin to work. 

“It’s not the level of a pro make-up artist, but we’ll pass for rookies,” Ten said softly. “Hopefully.” 

Hendery nodded. “It’ll work. We just have to be confident. Act like we belong.” 

Ten sucked in a shallow breath, and his shoulders were tense. Hendery leaned closer, chin tucked onto his shoulder, and Ten sank into the contact. They should really stop doing this, as long as their relationship was so nebulously defined, but damn it, they both liked it, and it was effective. 

“Don’t mess up your makeup,” Ten whispered after a moment, tapping his cheek gently. “You’ll get it all over me if you’re not careful.” 

Hendery nodded, eyes locked with Sicheng’s as he sat up. He knew he had resolved not to bring it up again before Sicheng was ready, but they were about to do something crazy that could end badly. “Are we… good, Sicheng?” 

Sicheng blinked, several times, face conflicted, before saying, “Of course we are.” 

Ten crossed his arms. “You seem like there’s something on your mind. Since last night. What is it?” 

Well, that was one way to do it. The bluntness seemed to work, though, since Sicheng opened his mouth to answer, “I… you’re right. There is something. It’s not… I’ll tell you both later, I promise. This… this is more important right now.” 

Ten just looked at him, not giving anything away on his face. “Okay,” he answered, finally. “I trust you. Hendery?” 

Hendery nodded, although he wanted to know right now. Whatever it was, he told himself, could wait. “Later. We can talk later.”

Ten was already made up, as well, looking the way he usually did. Most of his face would be out of sight, anyway, once they got inside. From his profile alone, Hendery understood how Ten could have been popular in this industry. It was strange, thinking of him in that capacity, but he’d been an entertainer at the club—he’d been doing essentially the same job, if maybe with a smaller audience. 

He was putting away the few items of makeup he’d had out, placing them back into a tiny bag. He was quieter than usual, reserved. They were all nervous about this; it was truly a bad idea, but if Ten needed to find his friends, this was their best bet. And Sicheng and Hendery had set off on this thing with him; Hendery couldn’t speak for Sicheng, but he knew he wouldn’t abandon Ten at the stage, not for anything. “What should we do? If things go downhill?”

Ten shook his head, looking straight ahead out the windshield. Passing headlights scattered light periodically across his face, making his eye makeup glitter. “If—if it comes down to it, I want you two to get out. If you get caught, throw me under the bus. They’ll believe you if you say I kidnapped you.” 

“I’m not saying that,” Hendery said immediately. 

Ten gave him a look. “Are we forgetting that I actually did kidnap you? I’m already suspected for murder. What’s the point in all of us getting in trouble?” 

Hendery pursed his lips, angry more at the principle of the thing. “It feels wrong. I don’t want them to have more crimes to blame you for. You haven’t done anything wrong.”  

Sicheng took a breath to speak. “It probably won’t happen. It’s just in case, Hendery. You’ll have to tell them to you weren’t working with either of us, and you didn’t know what happened, okay? That’s the only way you won’t get charged.” 

Hendery noticed that Ten gave Sicheng a funny look, before nodding at Hendery. “Yes,” he said. “That’s the most important thing. Both of us—we did things that are hard to defend. You can still get out of this, have a life later, if we get caught.”

Hendery wasn’t convinced. It felt wrong; he’d been just as involved in most of this as the other two. It wasn’t fair. Ten must have sensed further argument coming, because he added gently, “This is just in the worst-case scenario. Please. I’ve already put you through so much… I—I would feel so much better if I knew that you’re not going to get into trouble because of me.” 

“Fine,” Hendery replied, after a moment. He didn’t have to actually do it—if telling Ten a white lie now would save him worry, then of course he’d tell Ten that he would. If they were caught by the police, Hendery’s father would find him, for sure, and then the police would be the least of his problems.

Ten smiled, relieved, and clasped their hands together. After a moment of hesitation, he took Sicheng’s hand, too. “I just want to say… thank you, both. For everything. You’ve done so much for me, and I… there’s nothing I could do to repay that.” 

“We’ve been through a lot together,” Sicheng answered softly. “There’s no debt, Ten.” 

“Still,” Ten nodded. “I… I haven’t had friends in a long time.” He looked down at his hands, clasped with two others. “I don’t take it for granted.”

There was a long silence. Finally, Hendery said, “Are you ready for this, Ten?” 

Ten swallowed. “No,” he admitted softly. “But I… have to do this. I have to.” 

Sicheng’s face was somber, watching Ten warily like he might explode. But Ten only wrinkled his nose and laughed self-consciously. “Ugh. Too serious.” 

“You’re right,” Hendery agreed, grabbing their clothing, their cheap second-hand jackets and tight pants. It would have been a little ridiculous even in a normal situation, but here they were, life or death, and it would come down to how well they could impersonate k-pop stars. He threw Ten the black surgical mask. “Come on. Let’s do some espionage.” 

 

* * *

  
  


“This is so stupid, oh my God,” Ten hissed into Hendery’s ear as they lurked in the hallway.

It was a mess, managers barking orders at their idols, talking into interfaces about serious business, deftly stepping over young rookies who had set up camp on the floor next to power outlets. The buzz of excitement and anxiety was palpable, in this place--as tired as everyone was, this was what they’d been preparing for, what they’d sacrificed food and sleep and family for, and it was finally time. 

Ten didn’t know what it said about him that he missed it, a little, craved that feeling like a bad drug. This had been the feeling he’d lived for, back then. Now, it just felt… empty. 

They had gotten in the doors without so much as a second glance, with nothing more than a few clever words from Hendery and a sweet smile from Sicheng. And a quick flash of Ten’s tattoo certainly didn’t hurt. There were so many idols coming in and out, nobody questioned the three at the back of a long line of people. 

The plan appeared to be working, but Ten was still panicking, a little. Nobody could see his face, with his hood up and surgical mask covering the lower half of his face. He blended right in with all of the other idols, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was constantly a moment away from discovery. 

“Relax,” Sicheng muttered, hand between Ten’s shoulder blades. “Don’t act weird.” 

“I can’t help it,” Ten replied petulantly. “This is fucking horrible. How are we going to even find them?” 

He could tell that Hendery was getting worried. They’d been searching for nearly twenty minutes now; they’d seen the same security guard twice, and someone would start to get suspicious soon, three lone idols, no handlers in sight, wandering around aimlessly backstage. Even in this chaos, their luck would eventually run out. There were people everywhere, and no sign of the ones that Ten was desperate to talk to. 

Hendery hastily moved out of the way as a group of harried-looking stylists rushed past with a heavy cart of clothing, an older woman tossing directions at the younger people in her wake. “We need two more towels for mid-show break, and Donghyuck’s shirt is ruined, see what you can do about that--” 

Ten’s ears caught on the name in the midst of the hurried words. It could be a different Donghyuck, of course, a coincidence, but--

“There,” he said under his breath, nodding at the stylists. 

They followed. 

 

* * *

  
  


They arrived at a dressing room. The door was blank except for a piece of loose paper taped on with a name, and a company. There was no doubt about it, then; this was the right one. 

Two of the stylists went in with the clothing, then came back out. They all hurried down the hallway. 

Ten’s breath caught. This was it, he was going to see them again. There was no time to prepare, no time to brace himself. If they were going to do this, it had to be now. 

Hendery caught the door with his foot just as it latched shut, casually, as if he were just waiting there for his keepers. As soon as the stylists were out of sight, Ten, Sicheng, and Hendery slipped through the door, shutting it firmly behind them. 

Ten expected stunned silence, or angry insults, or perhaps some shocked gasps, if anyone was feeling particularly dramatic--but there was nothing. 

The room was empty.

There were signs of recent use, some makeup and clothes strewn around the place, but no people. A livestream of the stage played on mute, the projected screen too vivid, too happy, for the rest of the bland, white-walled space as people sang and danced and talked, confetti falling from the sky. 

“Where are they?” he asked, heart sinking. Tearing his mask off, he turned to Hendery and Sicheng, as if they had any more information than he did. “Where are they?” 

Nobody said anything. 

Hendery shook his head, looking at his watch. He whispered, “It’s… it’s only 7:28. They’re not due on stage until eight--they should still be here.”

“They’re not,” Ten said numbly. He didn’t even know what he was feeling--disappointed, maybe, or devastated--and he kicked himself for even hoping. 

This plan had been a long shot anyway. 

He wasn’t going to cry. He wouldn’t, not now, not in front of the others, not for the second time in as many days. But if everything had come to this, and he had failed--he had failed them--

It wasn’t an easy realization. 

He barely heard it as Hendery talked, hearing the words as if they were underwater. ‘We can still find them, remember? We have some other options.” 

“We need to get Ten out of here,” he heard Sicheng say. Right, that whole murder thing. Even with his disguise, it was too risky for him to be here. He couldn’t quite bring himself to care. 

“We’re already here,” Hendery replied. “We should try…” 

He stopped listening. His ears were ringing. The air conditioning turned on with a mild hum, causing goosebumps to form on his neck. He thought that Hendery might still be talking. 

The door swung open, and in walked a boy. 

Everything happened slowly, for Ten. He recognized the boy, nearly an adult man, really, tall and long-limbed and angular, and he realized abruptly that it was Jisung. 

Jisung stopped in the doorway at the sight of three unfamiliar people in the dressing room. His face was confused, at first, then his eyes widened in recognition as his gaze paused on Ten. 

“Ow,” he said loudly, slamming his foot into the doorframe and reaching down to hold it.

“What are you doing?” the voice came from just outside the door--a manager, Ten assumed--and Ten realized that Jisung was stalling for them. Hendery was pushing them into a coat closet roughly before Ten could even process the situation fully, and he let himself be ushered into the dark, musty space. 

“I’m fine,” Jisung said, voice getting closer. “Just stubbed my toe. Sorry.” 

Ten’s arms were squished between Sicheng’s and Hendery’s, and he tried to focus on the discomfort more than the fact that his former friend was in the room with them right now and Ten couldn’t talk to him. 

There was a rustling noise, and Jisung said, “Okay, found it!” 

“You have to be more responsible with your things, Jisung-ah,” the manager said sternly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he answered, the way he had a million times. 

Ten closed his eyes against the prickling he suddenly felt there. His voice might have been about an octave deeper than Ten remembered, but he’d never been good at keeping track of his valuables--some things never changed. 

There was a lengthy silence, so long that Ten thought that the two might have already left, before he heard a whispered, “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you need to leave. You can’t be here.” 

Ten wanted to respond, but he didn’t know how far the manager had gotten, if he could come back into the room at any moment, wondering why Jisung was dilly dallying. He felt tears well up in his eyes for real, now. Jisung continued, “We… we haven’t forgotten you. But this isn’t safe. It isn’t. We could all get in trouble.” 

Ten knew this. He knew, as much as he wanted to help them, this was putting them at risk, too. He was so selfish, letting the people around him take the brunt of his actions, Hendery, Sicheng, and now all of his old friends--how could he possibly help them, when he had nothing, when he was nothing. 

He felt some tears escape down his cheek, and he wiped the wetness away angrily, grateful for the darkness. He felt so helpless, trapped in this closet. Jisung said quietly, “Thank you. I haven’t forgotten.” 

Then the sound of a door opening and closing, and he was gone. 

Ten sniffled. Tried to stand up straight. Hendery didn’t open the closet door, leaving them in the quiet darkness for several more moments; Ten suspected it was just as much to give him time to compose himself as it was to make sure nobody was coming back. 

They stayed in the closet for a long time. 

When it was clear that they were totally alone in the room, Hendery opened the door, and the three of them slumped out of the closet, the sudden light making Ten squint. 

Ten sat down in the nearest chair, shoulders hunched, hands clasped between his knees, trying to breathe normally. The weight in his chest hadn’t been lifted, exactly--it felt more like he was hyper aware of it in a way that made it more manageable, for a moment, like addressing the pain head-on, pressing fingers into a nasty bruise. 

Sicheng stood behind him, hand on his shoulder. Hendery came around, crouching by Ten’s knee carefully. 

He’d spent so long imagining it, seeing them again. They’d somehow stayed the same in his memory, not aging or changing the way he had. 

The moment had come and gone; he hadn’t been able to say the things he needed to, or find out anything important. 

And they weren’t boys anymore; they would all be adults, now, like him, finished growing taller and baby fat gone. 

He hadn’t known if he would even recognize them, with their dyed hair and their muscles and their pretty new noses or chins or cheekbones. 

He hadn’t known if they would recognize him, either. 

What if that was the last time he ever saw any of them?

That was stupid, of course; they were idols. He could see them on every screen within a fifty kilometer radius.

The broadcast was still playing on the screen, silently, and Hendery suddenly said, “Volume on,” and sound filled the room. 

The MC’s were still chatting away happily to each other, talking about something silly, and then—

“I don’t think I have to tell you twice, but please be kind to this next act, everyone!” 

Ten didn’t want to watch it, he really didn’t, not after all of this, but he couldn’t look away. 

The music swelled, the crowd screaming in excitement, and it almost felt like Ten was there with them, adrenaline pumping as he was about to go onstage, the lights blinding and the room shaking as he was lifted skyward by the hydraulics.

They started performing, and Ten couldn’t breathe. 

The cameras captured them all in high resolution, making it easy to tell who was who. 

From here, seeing them all made up and polished and performing in front of fifty thousand people, watching from a television screen, it was hard to remember that Ten knew these boys. They barely even seemed human, the way they moved together, perfectly in sync, never a single mistake, no matter how tired they must have been or how much their joints hurt. 

It made Ten wonder, having been in their position himself, how the rest of the world must have viewed them. Constantly watching through a screen, seeing them perform almost superhuman feats up on that stage, holding them to a nearly impossible moral standard, no dating and no personal life and _no mistakes—_ how could anyone possibly get through that without taking some emotional damage along the way. 

They performed a few songs, their greatest hits, Ten supposed, including one or two that Ten had performed with them, back in the day. It was strange, having muscle memory for something that seemed so far away, now. 

The lights came up in the audience, the members delivering their thank you speeches. Ten heard them, but it was surreal, like a dream, and he filtered most of it out as unimportant, until—

“And finally, we’d like to sincerely thank Mr. Wong, who came all the way from Hong-Kong to be with us tonight,” Taeyong said into the mic. He paused, smiling conspiratorially over at Doyoung, playing the part well, as if they weren’t lines memorized from a script, word for word. “I heard a rumor, Doyoung, that Mr. Wong’s going to be our company’s new partial owner soon. It’s very exciting, right? Everyone give Mr. Wong a big round of applause!” 

Ten’s heart nearly stopped right there. 

Hendery was staring at the screen in horror, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He mouthed, _Mr. Wong,_ as if trying to puzzle it out, like his brain was running through all of the possibilities, hoping against hope that somehow, it was a coincidence, that it wasn’t his father, that there was another Mr. Wong from Hong-Kong with buckets of money to spend on a monolithic Korean entertainment company. 

The realization hit them both like cold water. 

Hendery’s father was buying SM Entertainment.

There was no way that this series of events had been an accident; Ten meeting Hendery, Ten’s friends messaging mere days later, after months of no contact, a pilot showing up nearly out of the blue, one who didn’t ask questions and didn’t call the cops when it became clear that Ten was a criminal…

Ten had a very bad feeling about all of this. 

Hendery seemed to be thinking the same thing, his expression equal parts confused and frightened and in shock. Ten didn’t question Hendery’s honesty in this, no—he trusted Hendery, probably too much. He knew that Hendery wasn’t responsible for this. 

Which only left one option. 

There was only one person who’d been involved in this since the beginning, inexplicably, for reasons that Ten hadn’t wanted to examine too closely because when he really thought about it, it didn’t make sense. 

He remembered his odd conversation with Kun, this morning. He’d stopped only when Sicheng was within earshot. He remembered the note, left unread in his other clothes back in the drone. 

What had he been trying to tell him? 

In the background, Ten’s friends were still onstage. He heard Mark’s voice like it was through a filter, strange and unnatural. “Seoul, we have one more song! Thank you so much for coming out tonight.” 

“We actually have…” Johnny stopped, staring at the words on the interface in front of him, probably shoved into his hand from backstage. He hadn’t been expecting it. He blinked hard, clearly taken aback by whatever he was about to read. “We have a message for Ten.” 

The fans went quiet, confused as well, waiting, listening. There had been no mention of Ten for nearly a year and a half, complete radio silence on the topic. It was as if he had been written out of their history, except people—some people—remembered. 

Ten’s brain was short-circuiting, at a loss; had someone seen him, said something? Had they gotten him on video? How did they know he was here? 

Johnny swallowed, then continued, slowly and clearly. “If you bring him to his father safely, all will be forgiven.” 

There was a kidnapping charge leveled against Ten, he knew, in addition to the murder. Ten didn’t have to guess at who “he” was supposed to be; the expression on Hendery’s face said enough. 

Surely, though, it was a lie. “If you don’t, Mr. Wong might be forced to take further action.” 

Johnny didn’t understand what he was reading, Ten could tell. But he could guess what it meant. In conjunction with Taeyong’s previous words, with what Ten knew about the situation, the message read very clearly: _I can hurt them_. 

It was a hostage exchange, except Hendery wasn’t a hostage, and Ten’s friends wouldn’t get their freedom if Hendery gave up his. Ten would be arrested. It was a lose-lose situation. 

This had been a trap from the beginning, Ten was slowly realizing. Only it hadn’t been meant for Hendery, before Ten had so carelessly involved him. 

Mr. Wong had full control over the lives of Ten’s friends. He could do whatever he wanted with them. 

Making this so public--it was a bold move, a cocky one. The actions of a man absolutely positive that he would come out of this the winner, that he would be able to control the rest of this narrative, no problem, because it hadn’t ever been truly out of his control. 

The noise from the audience was getting louder, confusion and outrage fueling their fervor. Mark tried to pick up where they left off, talking louder but much less confidently, “We’re, uh... gonna do one more song. Um… sing along if you know it, okay?” 

The music started playing, and it was as if nothing had happened, the boys doing their thing like it was any normal performance. 

If they were good at anything, it was pretending. 

He could see it in Hendery’s face, too, where he sat crouched on the floor in front of Ten. Neither of them wanted to come to the natural, obvious conclusion that would explain all of this, but… there was no denying that something was very, very wrong.

It couldn’t be true. 

Their eyes met, and they both turned to Sicheng.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry I've been gone for two months, and also if this feels a lil rushed... I've been picking at this part for so long, and tbh I was sick of looking at it, so here it is. I'm much more excited about what's next, so stay tuned. There are better days ahead for these kiddos.


	20. float

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy holidays to those who are currently celebrating! have some angst from me. but also if you make it through the chapter I think you'll like the end... maybe... <3

They were all out of breath as they got back to the drone. 

The three of them had slipped out of the stadium as quickly as they possibly could, going out a side door before security could ask for their identification. Sicheng’s heart was hammering, and it wasn’t only from running--the revelations in there, the thinly veiled threat from Wong--it had all been a set-up. 

Sicheng should have known. 

He tried to school his expression into something reasonable for the situation as he fumbled around for the keys with shaky hands. It was dark in the empty lot, street lamps casting a dim blue glow on the drone. A cat was meowing somewhere nearby, probably begging to be let in to someone’s house. 

He swore as he dropped his key on the asphalt. He reached down to feel around for it, trying to steady himself. He said, as casually as he could, “We should get going before--” 

“We’re not going anywhere,” Ten said, “Until you explain what the fuck is going on.” 

Sicheng looked up, and realized that he was being cornered. 

Ten had unhooked a tire iron from the drone’s undercarriage and was brandishing it like a makeshift weapon at Sicheng, boxing him in against the side of the car. Hendery stood behind him, uncertain, watching Sicheng warily. 

Sicheng swallowed. “What--what are you--” 

Ten held up a hand. “I’m giving you a chance to explain yourself. Use it.” 

Sicheng opened his mouth, then closed it. He tried to find the words, but they didn’t come. 

Ten’s mouth was pressed into a thin line. “Talk to me, pilot man. Tell me you’re who said you were. Tell me… tell me Lucas must have sold us out.” 

Sicheng took a breath, staring at Ten. Ten was giving him an out, but Sicheng wouldn’t use it. He wouldn’t lie again. He said carefully, “Lucas didn’t sell us out.” 

Ten didn’t move. He continued to hold the tire iron out in front of him, ready to protect Hendery, ready to break Sicheng’s ribs at the first sign of danger, Sicheng was sure. “You… you’ve been lying to us, haven’t you?” 

Sicheng closed his eyes. “Yes.”

He heard Hendery inhale sharply, heard Ten shift his footing. He braced for an impact that didn’t come. 

“Since the beginning?” 

Sicheng wanted nothing more than to lie to them, to make this better, to not hurt them, but he knew he couldn’t do that. “Yes. Since the beginning.” 

Ten made a noise of disgust, and Sicheng opened his eyes to watch him spin around and walk a few paces away. Hendery didn’t move, didn’t speak--he was just watching them both. 

Sicheng needed to explain, but--how could he? Ten didn’t look at him, and Sicheng could see his chest rising and falling. “What was it, then?” 

A drone passed by, far overhead, and they all watched it go warily. Sicheng replied, “I was instructed to bring you back to Seoul.” 

Ten was tapping the tire iron against the pavement menacingly. ”Give me one good reason not to knock you out and leave you in this parking lot right now.” 

He felt crazy. He didn’t know how his life had spun this far out of his control. 

“Ten—wait, please,” Sicheng pleaded. He jumped as Ten dropped the tire iron, and it clattered to the ground noisily. “I didn’t know—I didn’t know everything. I was just doing my job.”

Ten scoffed derisively, spinning around. “And you think that makes it better? Do you often work as a bounty hunter, Dong Sicheng? Is that your day job, then?” 

Every word was sharp and biting. Sicheng felt like all of the air had been sucked out of his lungs. “No—no, I just—I have so much debt, from school, and my family’s future is riding on this—” 

“You didn’t strike me as the kind of man to abandon his morals for money,” Ten interrupted. “You know how poor I was, when I got to Hong-Kong? I had nothing. I would have starved to death if I hadn’t found that job when I did. Don’t try to tell me it was all because you were broke.”

Sicheng shook his head, starting to get angry himself. He’d fucked up, yes, but Ten wouldn’t even listen. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought... it was more meaningful than what I'd been doing, bringing a criminal to justice. I—tried, when I realized that you weren’t—what they said you were—”

“And what the hell does that mean?” Ten said, quieting down, somehow scarier the colder and more detached his voice became. “That I’m not a criminal? Because I am. I _killed_ someone. Just because you wanted to fuck me doesn’t change that.”

Sicheng opened his mouth, and closed it again, completely at a loss for words. He eventually managed to stammer, “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” 

Ten laughed, bitter and sharp, and Sicheng flinched. “Yes, it is,” Ten came close, putting a hand on Sicheng’s chin. “Maybe you’re deluding yourself. That’s always what changes with people like you.” 

Sicheng wanted to step back, but he couldn’t, rendered helpless by Ten’s intense, shrewd gaze. “I meant what I said to you, and to Hendery.” 

That only seemed to make Ten angrier, fire igniting in his eyes again. He shook his head, letting go of Sicheng’s chin. “And Hendery! What the hell was the point of dragging him into your stupid little game? You know he didn’t do anything wrong!” 

“I didn’t drag him into this,” Sicheng argued. “You did. He was never meant to be involved.” 

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Hendery said quietly. 

Ten paused for a moment, collecting himself, fists clenched as he stared at the ground. When he spoke again, he was still fuming. 

“Take responsibility for once in your fucking life, Sicheng,” Ten grit out. “I know what I fucking did. I remember. And I have to deal with the consequences. But you’ve been playing the victim since the day we met. Like you have no agency over your own life. You _chose_ all of this.”

Sicheng felt the words hit him like a train. He swallowed, throat dry. “I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing.” 

Ten ignored that, still visibly shaking. “Well, luckily, you can still get that commission of yours. I’m going. Right now.” 

Hendery looked at him sharply. 

“Not—not to Wong,” Sicheng protested. “Ten, you can’t—” 

“Don’t you dare try to tell me what I can and can’t do.” Ten pointed a finger at him accusatorily as he continued, “I know how to take responsibility for my mistakes.” 

“Ten, those messages _weren’t real._ ” 

It was like Sicheng had punched him. The expression on Ten’s face, shock and horror and hurt, was worse than the anger. “What? What do you—” 

“Your friends were fine,” Sicheng said miserably. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hendery’s eyes widen in realization. “The messages were sent by me. Well, my boss, but… through me. To get you to come back of your own volition. They didn’t want you to get hurt in the process of dragging you back.” 

“No—“ Ten was shaking his head violently. “That’s not—I’ve been communicating with Taeyong and Johnny for the past—it was _them_.” 

“It wasn’t,” Sicheng said softly. “Not for the past few weeks. It was a trick.”

Ten looked like he was going to be sick. This meant that… nobody had been in danger--more danger than usual--until Ten and Hendery had set off for Seoul, until Hendery had pissed off his father enough that he decided to use Ten as a bargaining chip. “It’s… it’s my fault that they’re being involved in this now, isn’t it? It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t come back.” 

Sicheng sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know, Ten. I just did what I was told.” 

Hendery was looking back and forth between them. Sicheng didn’t even know how to begin _._

But Hendery had picked up on more than Sicheng had given him credit for. He said, so matter-of-factly that Sicheng wanted to cry, “You’re working for my father, aren’t you? I need to hear you say it.” 

As angry as Ten had been, this calm from Hendery was almost worse, so unsettling in its quiet betrayal. Sicheng took a breath, and looked Hendery directly in the eye, even though that was the last thing he wanted to do right now; Hendery deserved the truth. “Yes. I… was.” 

If Sicheng had expected tears from Hendery, he would have been sorely mistaken. Hendery’s face was stone-still, no reaction whatsoever when he continued, “Does he know where I am right now? Were you also assigned to keep an eye on me?” 

“No,” Sicheng said. “Not—not exactly. You were never supposed to come. I didn’t… tell him anything about you.” 

“That’s not what I asked,” Hendery interrupted, voice hard and a little frightening, reminding Sicheng of the brief moments he’d met Hendery’s father. It was strange, like a switch had been flipped the moment Hendery had realized who Sicheng was. This was the Hendery that would have taken over for his father, if he didn’t have all of the good in him, the light that overtook the darkness. Suddenly, Sicheng wasn’t on Hendery’s side, and that didn’t seem to be a good position to be in. “How'd he know we would hear that message tonight? Is he tracking us?” 

Sicheng took a shaky breath. “I called him, told him I wouldn’t—”  

Hendery made a noise of irritation, and turned to Ten before Sicheng could finish his sentence. “We need to leave. Quickly.” 

“Agreed,” Ten said. It was clear that they meant the two of them, without Sicheng. That stung more than it should have, given the circumstances. 

“Ten…I—I must have led him right to you,” Hendery murmured, some of the steel gone from his voice now that he was talking to Ten. “I knew my father kept eyes on me sometimes, runs background checks on people, but I didn’t… I didn’t think about the consequences for you when we started talking at the club. I’m so sorry.”

Ten looked up at Sicheng. “Is that true? Is that was happened?” 

Sichend nodded jerkily. Sicheng knew this to be true, from the few details that he’d been made privy to--that Hendery’s father had just been checking up on him, on the stripper who Hendery had been seeing, and it had happened to lead him to Ten, who’d been reported missing by his company nearly two years ago, Ten, who was wanted by the Korean police with a sizable reward attached. 

And it had led him to an investment opportunity that he couldn’t pass up, an easy way into Seoul’s flourishing white-collar crime scene without getting involved in the minutiae of it. A gesture of good will to the company while also maintaining the investment. Ten represented a lot of money, for Mr. Wong. 

Which was where Sicheng had come in. 

“I couldn’t have told Hendery not to come without blowing my cover,” he said weakly. 

Hendery shook his head, staring at the ground in anguish.

“You didn’t know,” Ten reassured. “You couldn’t have known. Sicheng was the one who lied to us for all this time.” He glared at Sicheng. “How much money are you getting? There’s a reward on my head, yes?” 

“It was… a lot.” Sicheng’s entire being felt like it was breaking into a million pieces, pulse thrumming in his ears, hands shaking. “I’ve… never taken a job like this before. My boss—your father—loaned me the money I needed to go to the Academy. I didn’t know that he dealt in this kind of thing until he offered me the job. I couldn’t—I couldn’t say no. I—it felt like I was never going to be able to get out from under the debt, and my family was struggling, and he said he would have the farm re-possessed if I couldn't pay—” 

“So you thought you would trick and manipulate me into making all of these stupid decisions because I thought my friends were in danger,” Ten finished, biting. “Why did you let me leave, that night when you saw my tattoo? That seems like some poor bounty hunting skills, if you ask me.” 

Sicheng hung his head. “I knew that it would be hard for you to find another ride, especially when you already had one for free. I thought, maybe—it would be better if you left. If you managed to find another way to Seoul. I was already feeling so weird about the job, and I just…” 

“You were a coward,” Hendery asserted softly. “You knew what you were doing was wrong. And you kept doing it anyway. You wanted Ten to solve your problems for you by leaving, and then you wouldn’t have had to stand up to my dad.” 

“They told me Ten was dangerous,” Sicheng said. “And when you got involved, Hendery, that seemed to confirm it, the way he treated you. I just wanted to prove myself. I wanted to make sure you were safe, since I couldn’t talk you out of traveling with him. I signed a contract saying that no matter what happened, I couldn’t go to the police.” 

“Well,” Hendery sniffed, his voice getting stronger with every word. “You don’t need to save me, Sicheng. Not from Ten, and not from my father. I thought…” He shook his head sadly. “I’ve known so many of my father’s stupid henchmen, Sicheng, and you know what? They always think that they’re doing it for some big reason, but it never pans out. Because it doesn’t matter what you do. You can’t win. I pity the people who try.” 

Hendery stared down Sicheng, and there was no warmth there. Sicheng tried to stutter out a reply, but it was difficult when it felt like Hendery was scooping out his insides and hanging them up for scrutiny. Sicheng finally managed, “Hendery, I’m so, so sorry.” 

Hendery closed his eyes. “Yeah. I don’t know if that’s good enough for me anymore.” 

“I know I was wrong,” Sicheng said weakly. “I called him, last night. As soon as I knew the truth about what happened. I told him that I wouldn’t do it.” 

“Too little, too late, pilot man,” Ten murmured. It didn’t hold a shred of affection, and Sicheng didn’t blame him. “You lied to us. Not only that, you acted like our _friend_.”

The word, full of alternative meanings, hung in the air between them, as raw as an open wound. “That’s unforgivable, Sicheng.” 

Sicheng tried to grasp onto anything that might make this better, coming up empty-handed. “It was a job,” he said. “It was only a job. We talked about--sometimes people do what they have to to make money.” 

Ten sighed. “You and I both know it’s not the same,” he said quietly, the fight gone. “Sicheng, you know it’s not.” 

Sicheng stared at the floor. “I… I know. I know.” 

Hendery pressed a finger to Sicheng’s chest. “If you knew, you wouldn’t have done it. Don’t lie.” 

The breath left Sicheng’s lungs with nothing but the light touch. “I never wanted to hurt you.” 

Their eyes met, and Hendery’s gaze was searching, a light breeze ruffling his hair. “Well, you did,” he finally said. “This could have been different, Sicheng. You could have said something earlier. We could have figured this out together before we walked into a trap. How could you--” 

He stopped, cheeks flushing a little pink. “You kissed Ten. You let me say all of that stuff about how I liked you. What else would you have done, if given the opportunity?” 

The implication made Sicheng’s skin crawl, an uncomfortable pit in his stomach. “I wouldn’t have--Hendery, that’s not fair.” 

“Isn’t it?” Ten asked softly. “Sex and money make you do things you wouldn’t otherwise, darling. I don’t remember you trying to tell me no. Would you have?” 

Sicheng was silent. He didn’t know, if things had happened differently, that night, if he’d been more drunk and Ten had gotten him alone--

He didn’t know for sure that he would’ve said no. Ten could be very persuasive. 

Ten laughed coldly. “Oh, Sicheng. Such a hypocrite. You’re as bad as me, aren’t you?” 

Hendery’s mouth twisted. “Don’t try to follow us.” 

That was it, then. There was nothing left to be said. 

Sicheng could only watch as they walked away. 

 

 

* * *

  
  


Ten stopped, tugging his hand out of Hendery’s. “Wait, Hendery, stop.” 

He wasn't sure how long they'd been walking, but he didn't recognize their surroundings at all now. 

Hendery did, looking back impatiently. “We need to get you out of here, Ten.” 

“He’s also looking for you,” Ten replied, similarly curt. “Did you hear? He’s thinks I’ve kidnapped you.” 

“He doesn’t,” Hendery said, shaking his head. “He just wants other people to think that, because it makes it look a little better for him than a runaway kid. If I go back voluntarily, maybe he’ll still drop the charges against you.” 

Ten stared at him, irrationally upset at the mere suggestion. “Hendery. You can’t go back. We’ve been down this road before, okay?”

“What if my father hurts someone because of me?” Hendery asked, eyebrows drawing together in consternation. “Ten, we have to do something, and this is one of the options. I’m not ruling it out yet.” 

“You’re not going back.” Ten’s voice was raised a little above normal conversational level now, but damn it, he wouldn’t let Hendery be an idiot.

Hendery shushed him, grabbing his arm and walking faster. “We’ll talk about this later.” 

Fuck, _no,_ this wasn’t okay, his brain immediately supplied. He was reminded of his former managers, barking directions and shepherding him places and touching his body like he was some kind of disobedient pet. Like hell if he was going to let Hendery do the same to him. 

“Let me go,” Ten hissed angrily, and Hendery immediately released him as if he’d been burned, eyes wide. 

“Sorry,” he said breathlessly, but Ten wasn’t feeling particularly forgiving at this moment in time. 

“Asshole,” Ten said caustically, putting more space between himself and Hendery. “I think you’ve misunderstood what’s going on here.”

“What?” Hendery asked, and as angry as Ten was, the look of hurt on Hendery’s face was almost enough for Ten to backpedal. Almost.

“Sicheng was a snitch,” Ten emphasized. “And I’m a criminal. And you are in the middle of it. This--” he gestured between the two of them. “Can’t happen. Okay? Not anymore.” 

“What--why?” Hendery was obviously bewildered, and Ten couldn’t blame him; honestly, he didn’t even know why he was saying the things he was, other than the trauma of the past thirty minutes and the urgent need to get Hendery as far away from all of this--and him--as possible. 

“It’s not--it doesn’t make sense, Hendery,” he said. “We’ve gotta figure this out, and any sort of… personal attachment… is going to make things more complicated.” 

“Ten, I don’t understand,” Hendery said quickly, voice low. “This isn’t--” 

Sicheng had lied to them. Ten had been stupid enough to trust him, and he couldn’t--he didn’t think he had the emotional capacity to be here with Hendery in any way that wouldn’t be ultimately damaging to both of them. He couldn’t do this. “I just--” 

He couldn’t look at Hendery. He knew what his face would look like, betrayed and confused and abandoned. Ten didn’t want to leave, but he knew he couldn’t stay for another second. 

Hendery didn’t try to stop him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Hello?” 

Sicheng jumped, but didn’t look up. The voice wasn’t Ten or Hendery. They were gone.

He had come here without realizing, not even thinking that the other two might have had the same idea. He didn’t have anyone, now, but the WayV boys seemed like his only bet. 

 He was shivering without his jacket, sitting outside, head in his hands. He wasn’t used to this kind of cold, but putting on a jacket seemed silly, given the events of the evening. He couldn’t bring himself to go up and knock on the door, because what if Hendery was here? What if Ten was? 

After several moments, someone cleared their throat, sounding much closer to Sicheng, so he finally picked up his head.

Kun appeared in Sicheng’s field of vision, crouching low to ground, a kind but concerned expression on his face. “Hey,” he said gently. “Are you alright?”

Sicheng just stared at him, unable to figure out how to articulate the magnitude to which things were absolutely not alright. Kun waited patiently; when it became clear that Sicheng wasn’t going to respond, he held out a hand to help Sicheng up off the ground. “Should we go inside? It’s so cold tonight.”

Not wanting to disappoint Kun, for some reason, he tried to unfurl his frozen limbs, but they creaked and protested after having been curled up into a ball for so long. Kun noticed that he was struggling, and heaved him to a standing position. He smiled mildly at the very small success and put an arm around Sicheng’s shoulders in an attempt to guide him towards the house. “Would you like some food?” 

Sicheng supposed Kun was just being nice. As soon as he found out what Sicheng had done to Ten and Hendery, it would be over. He felt compelled to say, voice small and croaky, “I should go.” 

Kun’s eyebrows drew together in sympathy, pausing before he delivered the blow. “Ten and Hendery aren’t here. I tried to convince them to come stay the night, but…”  

“They told you?” Sicheng asked.

Kun’s wince was all the answer he needed, but Kun added diplomatically, “I… already suspected.” 

“How?” 

“We heard from one of our contacts that Wong had hired someone who was planning to fly through our mountains,” he said. “It didn’t take long to guess.” 

Secrets didn’t stay secrets for long, Sicheng supposed. Even among criminals. 

“You talked to them? Are they alright?” Sicheng asked. It wasn’t really his place to ask, but still. They’d been alone in the middle of the city, with no ride, and he was worried. 

“They seemed alright, yeah,” Kun replied reassuringly. 

Kun was too kind, to offer Sicheng breakfast after finding out what kind of awful person Sicheng was. He knew he shouldn’t take advantage of Kun’s caring personality, and he said as much. 

Kun shook his head. “I understand that it was… a complicated situation.” 

“Not really. It was all my fault.” 

With a sigh, Kun stopped trying to lead Sicheng into the house. “You made a mistake. We all make mistakes.” 

“Not like this,” Sicheng responded miserably. “Kun, I did this to them. I hurt them.” 

“Maybe,” Kun hummed. “But you didn’t go through with it, right? You told the truth, before anything was too far gone to be fixed.” 

Sicheng shook his head. “It’s too late to fix anything.” 

Kun smiled. “You know, I’ve heard Lucas say the exact same thing before.” 

“Lucas?” asked Sicheng confused. “Why would he…” 

“Because he’s made some pretty big mistakes in his life. We all have, me and Yangyang and Xiaojun, too.” 

Sicheng must have been making a skeptical face, because Kun continued, more forcibly, “Some really big mistakes. Things that we didn’t know if we could come back from. Things that made us think we were just… bad people, at our cores.” 

Kun let that sink in, before putting his hands on Sicheng’s shoulders. “I don’t believe those boys in there are bad people. I think they’re just… people, who have been put in bad circumstances.” 

Sicheng swallowed, and looked away. “I don’t think they’re bad people, either. But the difference is that I had other options. Nobody forced me to go to flight school. Nobody forced me to take this job.” 

“Nobody forced me to become a drug runner,” Kun said softly. “But I did. I didn’t get help when I could have, and I hurt a lot of people in the process. I briefly worked for an offshoot of Wong Han’s operation, although I didn’t know who it was at the time. I’m still trying to forgive myself for who I was at that time in my life.” 

He paused, and Sicheng stared at him, surprised. Kun smiled gently. “You aren’t the only one who’s made mistakes. You’re not a bad person. I chose to believe that about myself, and my friends. I had to. It was the only way to live my life better.” 

Sicheng looked down, throat tight, hating that he was feeling sorry for himself, hating that Kun was so good at advice. 

He’d always just been looking for something _more._ His feet had been itching since the moment he’d arrived in Hong-Kong, not for home but for something else he couldn’t identify, his entire life blanketed with a perpetual sense of longing for a life he’d never had. He wanted to be a version of himself who was worthy of the people around him, and he’d always come up short. “I want to do better. I want to _be_ better.” 

Kun put at a hand on Sicheng’s shoulder, comforting. “You can be,” he said slowly. “But wallowing isn’t going to help. So you can either stay here, and keep feeling sorry for yourself,” he raised an eyebrow. “Or you can come with me, and we can do something about it.” 

 

 

* * *

  
  
  


Ten wasn’t as scared anymore.

He stood in the shadows, out of sight, in the middle of Seoul’s luxurious uptown. The river ran quickly, dark and menacing, next to him, but it didn’t seem terribly frightening the way it used to when he had lived here. Instead, he just felt angry, staring at all of the steel and marble and glass, the skyscrapers and statues that had been built on the backs of people whose names had likely been long forgotten. This was the ugly reality of success, it seemed, no matter where Ten went in the world. 

He’d realized the moment that Sicheng had told him the truth that there were worse things than trusting someone who didn’t deserve it. He had given Sicheng more than he should have, and that was entirely Ten’s own fault—but it at least it meant that now, he had nothing more to lose. It meant that it was easier to walk away. 

This was the end-state that he had been approaching for a long time, since he’d drugged Hendery, since he’d pulled that trigger, since he’d signed a contract in a language he didn’t know. He knew that there was a limit to it all; he remembered the words of Taeil, sage and quiet, “You can’t treat people like they’re disposable, Ten, just because you want to be the best. It’ll catch up with you eventually, and then there won’t be anything left for you.” 

He was always going to end up alone. 

He didn’t know any other way to do it, though. He missed his parents, his missed his friends—he missed being able to watch a movie and not flinch every time there was a gun on screen.

He missed Hendery. He thought about calling him; he’d left in the heat of the moment, and he hadn’t meant it. He’d just needed some time to think, to process. But every time he got close, he remembered that he was the reason that all of this was happening. 

He’d been honest with Sicheng and Hendery, that he didn’t regret it—but that didn’t mean he was okay.

He would go to prison, probably. No matter how successful he was at convincing the others to leave—he was living proof that it was possible—he knew that his chances of coming out of this were low, especially alone, with no getaway car and no backup. He would be waltzing right back onto the scene of the crime. 

He glanced down at his interface, at the instructions that had been sent there. From Sicheng, perhaps? Or someone else. It didn’t matter to him, he told himself. He briefly imagined what Sicheng would sound like, giving these instructions in person: “Be there by midnight tomorrow to deliver Kunhang. No weapons. No cops.” 

He would be showing up without Hendery, so he didn’t know if it would be enough to save his friends. 

But he needed to try. He had felt guilty every day that his friends remained in this place, being used as toys for profit, as something less than human. No matter what would happen to them out there, it was better than staying, and they needed to know that. 

There was a part of him, though, that wished he could just go back to how things were. 

It felt almost like he could walk back into his old dorm and crawl into bed, finding a boy or two already there, tired but safe from the day. Like he could go back to working as hard as he could day in and day out for the sake of a goal that wasn’t his anymore. Fit seamlessly back into the team as if the past few years had been nothing but a dream.

He didn’t really want that. He knew that it was the people he was missing, not the life. 

He thought about what Sicheng had said to him, the first night they’d met. _This is what you do, isn’t it?_

He had gotten good at using people, it was true. By necessity, sometimes for entertainment—Ten rationalized it by telling himself that it was karma of sorts, for all of the time that he had spent in a kind of pretty captivity, trapped and used and controlled. Now, he was pretty sure it was just because he was a shitty human being.

Sicheng and Ten’s games had only served to hurt Hendery, the only truly innocent party in this, which was ironic, considering he was the heir to a crime empire. An heir whose father had been the one responsible for Ten’s delivery back to Korea, but still. He shouldn’t have been involved.

Both Ten and Sicheng were at fault. Maybe Sicheng had been right about Ten all along. Maybe they were made of the same stuff, dark and empty at their cores, pulling down everyone else around them without regard for what would happen. Hendery could have been like them, growing up the way he had—there was a certain darkness in him, yes, but he was better. He wouldn’t betray his friends. He wouldn’t hurt Ten or Sicheng like they had hurt him. Something about his internal makeup balanced out the external forces of his life, allowed him to remain a bright point in a stretch of sky that was all darkness. 

He wanted to be worthy of that light, but he didn’t think he was. 

Ten shook his head slightly, thinking about how Sicheng had lied to them. He had wanted Sicheng so badly that he had been willing to ignore the red flags. Not only that, but he had wanted the three of them, together, and as low of a regard he held for himself, he had wanted to believe that Sicheng was a better man than to treat Hendery like that, make him believe in something that didn’t exist. 

Ten had to remind himself that he had done worse to Hendery, though. He was probably better off without either of them, which was why Ten had left. He had to fix this without putting Hendery in danger. 

The street lights turned, automatically, even though there were no drones around to activate the sensors. Ten didn’t know how many cycles he had been here for, watching as the lights turned from green to yellow to red and back again, but it was too many.

If he didn’t have time to sit around hating himself, then he certainly didn’t have time to sit around hating Dong Sicheng. 

The note in his pocket burned, urgent and infuriating. Kun’s words, the warning that he hadn’t seen until it had been too late: _We have some intel about Sicheng. He’s lying to you. Be careful._

“You gonna stand out here all night?” 

Ten jumped, even though he knew the voice well by now. Hendery was strolling over casually, hands in his pockets, looking annoyingly good for a man who hadn’t had a full night of sleep in nearly a week. “I’m formulating a plan, if you must know. How did you find me?” 

Hendery came to a stop, a bag slung over his shoulder. “Asked for directions.” 

“What?” Ten was startled into dropping his irritated glare. “Really?” 

Hendery just tilted his head in answer. “I asked Xiaojun. It seems way too easy to find out where idols sleep. I figured you would go back to a familiar place, if you didn’t have anywhere else.” 

That was… irritatingly perceptive of him. Ten hated how easily Hendery was able to predict him. He remembered himself and said accusatorily, “You shouldn’t even be here. You’re not going to talk me out of it.” 

Hendery sighed. “I know. That’s not why I’m here.” 

“Then why are you?” 

“To help,” Hendery answered, matter-of-factly. “Since you seem completely uninterested in surviving the night.” 

“It’s not a matter of interest, Hendery,” Ten grumbled, rubbing at his temples. “I’m just managing my expectations.” 

“Well, I’m not going to let you play the martyr,” Hendery replied. “This isn’t just about you. So I came up with an actual plan, so that we might make it out of this.” 

Ten felt equal parts irritation and affection. “Why?” he demanded. They weren’t Hendery’s friends; he had no stake in this. Hendery could leave Korea now and never look back. 

Hendery gave him a look. “Are you serious?”  

“What do you mean?” 

“Because I care about you? Because I don’t want you dead or in prison?” Hendery huffed a bitter laugh and shook his head. “You are fucking impossible, you know that?” 

Ten stared at his hands, sufficiently chastised. He said quietly, “I’m sorry.” He looked up at Hendery, and continued, echoing Hendery’s own words to Sicheng from earlier, “But you don’t need to save me.” 

Hendery seemed to accept the apology, at least insofar as to exhale, releasing some of the tension in his shoulders and taking a step closer to Ten. “I know. I’m not trying to be… your hero, or whatever. But people are in danger, and the two of us are going to figure out what to do about it. Together.”

Ten took Hendery’s hand and squeezed. “Okay.” He paused. He wasn’t good at accepting help. “Thank you.” His voice lowered to a whisper, as if he were confessing a secret. “I care about you, too.” 

Hendery smiled softly in answer. 

It felt strange, being here without Sicheng. When Ten noticed himself feeling the absence, he pushed it down immediately. They didn’t need him. None of it had been real, anyway, just a fabrication, an expertly-woven deception. 

Although they had avoided the topic completely, Hendery must have noticed the flicker of emotion across Ten’s face and identified it immediately, because his own expression sobered, and in his next breath, Ten felt arms around him. 

To be honest, Ten couldn’t remember the last time he had hugged someone. It felt a little foreign at first, but then he remembered it was Hendery, and wrapped his own arms around Hendery’s middle, face pressed hard into Hendery’s shoulder, breathing in and out slowly.

It shouldn’t have felt like this much a loss, considering they were never a thing to begin with, but it felt like grief—mourning the person that they had thought they’d known, compounded with every other shitty thing that had happened to them both for no good reason.  

They didn’t have time to feel it, though. Not tonight. Maybe not ever, if things didn’t go their way. 

“You know it’ll be dangerous,” Ten said into Hendery’s neck. 

Hendery’s voice was low. “I’m done being scared of him. I want to stop being scared.” 

Ten felt his throat get tight. “Me too.” 

Hendery paused. “I feel like that’s the only thing that’s ever motivated me. Fear. I don’t… I don’t want that to be my entire life. I want this to be over, one way or another. I can’t keep running away.” 

Ten looked up, gripping the back of Hendery’s neck to get his attention. “You don’t have to prove anything. Not this way.” He bit his lip, trying to figure out how to phrase the next part. The guilt was washing over him in waves, and it was almost difficult to talk through. “How I feel about you isn’t… dependent on what you can do for me. If you need to get away from all this... do it.”

“I’m not trying to prove anything to you,” Hendery answered softly. “Maybe to myself. But mostly, it’s that I don’t want you to have to do this all by yourself. This is as much my problem as yours, now.” 

Maybe Ten had been wrong. Maybe he did still have something to lose. 

He took a breath, then another. A few beats passed before he was able to ask, “Can I kiss you?” 

He hadn’t ever asked, before. He’d just taken it, like he had taken so many other things from Hendery. Now, all he wanted was to give something, reassure Hendery that his feelings were reciprocated, that he was cared about, that Ten would do almost anything to make him happy. 

Ten wasn’t as good with words as Hendery was. But they seemed to speak the same language when it came to touch. 

Hendery considered him, looking taken aback. When he didn’t respond, Ten added quickly, “You can say no.” 

Hendery nodded thoughtfully. “I can.” He paused. “You can, too.”  

Ten blinked. It wasn’t that he hadn’t ever thought about saying no to someone—but it was strange being told that he could, when he’d been so cavalier about Hendery’s own consent. After how badly Ten had treated him, Hendery could take whatever he wanted, as far as Ten was concerned; Hendery wouldn’t, though, not without asking, not ever. 

Ten still had trouble thinking of touching, of sex, of any kind of intimacy as something that didn’t have to be transactional; everything had a price, in Ten’s head. 

Not this, though. Not anymore.  

He nodded jerkily, and Hendery swallowed, tilted Ten’s chin up slightly. He was nervous, Ten realized in surprise. 

When Hendery kissed him, it was soft, only a moment. It wasn’t their first kiss, it wasn’t even their second, and Ten regretted that more than anything else in that instant. This could have been different, _they_ could have been different, if Ten had just trusted him. 

Ten could have changed his behavior, but he couldn’t change his past. Just like Hendery couldn’t change his.

Hendery was gentle with him, as always. Ten was unaccustomed to Hendery’s particular brand of gentleness; it wasn’t like Ten deserved it, the light brushing of fingertips against his cheek, the steadying arm around his waist, the unhurried movement of lips, so it was strange, when Ten was so used to rough and fast and impersonal. It made him feel momentarily like he was more fragile than he really was, somehow, more valuable than he really was—as if he wasn’t broken to his core. 

Strange.

Hendery put his hands in his pockets, and something about the way he looked, face lit by the streetlights, made Ten say, “I’m really glad that you found me.” 

His voice came out a little smaller, a little more vulnerable than he would have liked. He wished it wasn’t so obvious that he didn’t just mean tonight. 

This was so frightening, doing this, and yet, somehow Hendery’s smile made it worth it. Ten hated how reliant he was on that smile, the way that Hendery kept forgiving him, continued to love him despite everything he’d done wrong. Hendery hadn’t let him go, not once, and yet Ten knew that if he would without question the moment Ten genuinely asked him to. “I am, too.” 

“I won’t make you chase me again,” he said, staring at the ground. “I promise. And I’m sorry, for leaving. I’m in this, with you. If you’ll have me.” 

“I’ll think about it,” Hendery said, deadpan, and Ten didn’t realize he was joking until a beat too late, when Hendery smiled at Ten’s nonplussed reaction. “Of course, Ten. We’ve been through too much to give up on each other now.” 

Ten took a breath. “If I have to turn myself in, I’ll do it.” 

“You can’t.” Hendery’s face darkened. “Ten… I’ve been thinking about it, and… my father, if he’s trying to create a better narrative for himself in this… he’ll make an example of you.” 

Ten’s heart contracted in fear. “What do you mean?” 

Hendery looked at him through his eyelashes. “He has a reputation to uphold. If he wants people to think his son was kidnapped, he’ll have to do something drastic in response, to let everyone know what happens when they cross him.” 

“Using me,” Ten surmised. He closed his eyes. “I wish we could just leave. Run away somewhere.” 

“I know,” Hendery replied softly. “I do, too.” He put a hand on Ten’s jaw. “But we can do this. We can take him down. And save your friends. We can figure this out, Ten.”

Ten laughed weakly, leaning into the touch. “You’re… a little crazy, aren’t you?”  

Hendery shrugged, unoffended. “I was raised by mobsters. You can’t blame me.”

Ten’s fingers curled into his shirt collar, pulling him down for another kiss, firm and a little exhilarated. Hendery made a noise of approval. “I just can’t believe I didn’t realize it sooner. I’m definitely not complaining. It’s kind of hot, you know? All the scheming. Your total disregard for the very high probability that we’ll be captured or dead within the next twenty-four hours.” 

“I’m an optimist,” Hendery said, still breathless from the kiss. “And honestly, it’s been a weird few days.” 

Ten blew out a breath. Truer words had never been spoken. “That it has.” They both glanced up as a drone zipped past overhead; that had been them, before, and now it would be ground travel the rest of the journey. Even if they could find another pilot, someone would have to pay Ten for him to step foot in another drone. 

Maybe that was better, Ten thought; he’d never liked heights, anyway. 

He swiped a thumb across Hendery’s lower lip, and Hendery gazed at him intensely. Something about it sparked a flicker of desire in Ten. “Shall we?” 

Hendery’s answering smile was sharp and a little irreverent, and Ten was momentarily glad that he wasn’t on Hendery’s bad side; he would burn SM Entertainment to the ground if Ten let him, and walk away without a singe. There was a lot more to Hendery than initially met the eye, and if Ten wasn’t Ten, he would be afraid it was more than he could handle. As it was, they were rather well matched, and it made Ten’s heart race pleasantly. 

For better or for worse, they were going to end this, together. It was a turn of events that Ten couldn’t have predicted, a week ago, but then a lot of things had happened that Ten wouldn’t have seen coming. He’d underestimated Hendery, over and over again, and here they were, their fates tied together by a series of deceptions and coincidences and misfortunes. 

Between the two of them, they were not going to go down easily. 

 

 


End file.
